


What Dreams May Bring

by Jestana



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dream-mates, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: In this universe, almost everyone has a dream-mate: someone they meet in their dreams and befriend. This person is best suited to them and they often end up sharing their lives in some way. Most often, they marry. Sometimes people have more than one. Sometimes they have none at all.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by imaginary_golux's fic [Dream Lover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856001), I got to thinking about how it would work for Turn and this monster of a story grew out of it. I ended up doing my own NaNoWriMo in June with this sucker. I have included some French, Italian, and German phrases. Thank you to Maja for helping me with the French and Ann Joy for helping me with the German. If anyone knows Italian and sees something that should be corrected, feel free to indicate in the comments. Translation apps can only do so much.
> 
> Regarding historical accuracy: I tried to stick as close to historical events as I could. However, when I had to choose between the series and historical events, I went with the series because this is ultimately a fanfic of Turn.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream-mates are born and grow up. In the meantime, America begins her fight for independence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Covers events that happen before the series and the first season.

It had been years since Samuel Townsend gave up the faintest hope of having a dream-mate like most other people. Years since he gave up on the chance for someone who suited him. Years since he grew used to ignoring the pitying looks he'd get from the people who knew that he had no dream-mate. The only person who didn't give him such looks was Sarah Stoddard. She didn't have a dream-mate, either, and seemed perfectly content. They were comfortable with each other and it seemed only fitting that they marry. Sarah agreed and they didn't take long to settle into a comfortable life together.

Samuel had just begun considering the idea of suggesting that they start trying to have the family they both wanted when a newborn baby appeared in his lap as he dreamed. He stared down at the bundle, his heart hammering in his chest. The baby stirred restlessly and he quickly scooped it--him--up. Cradling him in his arms just like he did with his nieces and nephews, Samuel rocked the baby gently. As he did, he murmured quietly, "Twenty-three years and you __would__ show up when I'd given up on having a 'mate. Well, Sarah will like you. I hope. We'll hardly be able to do anything until you're older, at any rate. Whoever your parents are, I hope they'll do right by you."

He continued to babble at the child until his eyes closed on his favorite fishing spot and opened in the dim morning light of the bedroom he shared with his wife. Shifting onto his side, he could see that she still slept, her face peaceful in sleep. He'd asked once if she dreamt at all. She said she did, but no one visited her there. _"It's never bothered me, Samuel. I'm content without a dream-mate. If I did have one, though, I'd rather it be you."_

"Well, now we know why we aren't dream-mates," he murmured to himself, gently tucking one of Sarah's curls behind her ear.

As if she heard him, Sarah's eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw him. "Good morning, my dear."

"Good morning, Sarah." He leaned down to kiss her, soft and chaste. She responded in kind, as she always did.

When he lifted his head, she had her eyebrows raised. "Something's bothering you, Samuel."

"Never could keep anything from you." He chuckled ruefully, taking one of her hands and kissing the back. He knew most people didn't like the way Sarah could pick up on the littlest clue and figure things out about them. Samuel found it intriguing.

"No, you can't." Sarah shifted to sit up and Samuel followed suit. "What's wrong?"

After a long moment, he took a deep breath and told her, "It seems I have a dream-mate after all. He just happens to be young enough to be our son."

"That's wonderful, Samuel." She smiled warmly, kissing his cheek. "I know you've always wanted one."

Samuel managed a faint smile in reply. "I did, yes. I have you, though, and eventually our own family. I don't need a dream-mate as well."

"It seems God feels you do," Sarah told him, cupping his cheek with one hand and smiling tenderly at him. "Perhaps he's nearby or in America at least. Then we can both watch him grow up."

This time, Samuel's smile was stronger. "Perhaps. I want him to know you, regardless of where he's from. You're part of my life, too."

"I look forward to meeting him." Sarah leaned in to kiss him, sweet and tender.

*

Hercules Mulligan, it turned out, didn't live in New York, or even America. He lived in Ireland. When the boy was about four, for the first time, Samuel didn't dream of his favorite fishing spot. Instead, he stood on the bank of a different river, a stone wall at the top of the bank. Hercules perched on the wall, blond hair tumbling around his shoulders and heels kicking at the stones. He waved when Samuel walked up to him. "Uncle Sam!"

"Hello, Hercules." Samuel leaned in to hug the child, feeling content as he always did when they were together. "This is beautiful."

Hercules shrugged and gestured behind him. "It's home."

Following his gesture, Samuel saw a city. Not as large as York City, but with a much longer history. "It's very nice. What's it called?"

"Cúil Rathain," Hercules told him, jumping down from the wall. He flinched the next moment. "I'm not supposed to call it that. I'm supposed to call it Coleraine. Wanna see it?"

"Of course." Samuel took Hercules' hand and they began to wander the empty streets. Ever since he learned that Hercules lived in Ireland, Samuel had made a point to keep up with news from there. One thing he'd learned was that the Irish were discouraged from speaking or learning their native language. "How is your family doing?"

Shrugging, Hercules tightened his grip around Samuel's hand. "I told Mum and Da that you're all growed up, like them, and they didn't like it much."

"Grown up," Samuel corrected gently, just as he would for his nieces and nephews. "I can hardly blame them. Most dream-mates are closer in age."

The grip on Samuel's hand tightened even more. "I like you all growed up. You already know lots of things."

Samuel smiled a little. "I should certainly hope so. I'd be glad to tell you about them if you like."

"Can you tell me 'bout 'Merica?" Hercules asked, green eyes hopeful as he looked up at Samuel.

Chuckling, Samuel nodded and began to talk.

*

"Uncle Sam! We're moving to 'Merica!" Hercules exclaimed two years later, when Samuel found himself in Coleraine once again. Excited, he barely let Samuel get his bearings before hugging him.

Gently freeing himself, Samuel knelt so he could hug Hercules back. "That's wonderful news, Hercules. Perhaps we can meet someday."

"Mum and Da aren't sure 'bout that," Hercules admitted, pulling back from the hug, his face solemn. "They think you'll try to take me from them."

Samuel shook his head, though he understood their worry. "Never. You are their son and they should raise you."

"I wish I was _your_ son," he muttered as Samuel rose to his feet, kicking at the street under them with his bare toes.

This wasn't the first time Hercules had expressed such a wish. Usually, though, he was quieter about it and Samuel pretended not to hear. This time, it was clear that Hercules meant him to hear. "You'd rather have a dream-mate your age?"

"Well, no. I just want to see you, somewhere other than my dreams." Hercules sighed and leaned against Samuel, who gently wrapped his arms around Hercules' skinny shoulders. Too skinny, to tell the truth.

"As do I, Hercules, don't mistake me." Samuel gently combed his fingers through Hercules' unruly blond hair. "Perhaps when you're a little older."

"Most of my friends have met their dream-mates." Hercules confided, peering up at Samuel. "They tease me about not meetin' mine yet."

Samuel sighed heavily. "My friends used to tease me about not having a 'mate at all. It's not very nice of them, is it?"

"No, it isn't." Hercules shook his head vigorously.

An idea occurring to him, Samuel asked, "Can you tell me a bit more about your parents?"

"I've told you lots already," Hercules frowned up at Samuel.

Samuel nodded. "I know, but you haven't told me what they'll do when they get to America."

"Same as what they do here, I guess. Da's an 'ccountant. He's good with numbers."

Hiding a smile, Samuel only nodded. "Yes, you need to be good with numbers for something like that. What about your mother?"

As Hercules chattered, Samuel began making plans for a way he could help Hercules' family when they reached America.

*

"Welcome, sir, how can I help you?" The new clerk at Haines and Langdon, the accounting firm Samuel used to keep track of the finances for his trading ships, greeted Samuel with a polite, professional smile.

Samuel took a moment to study the man. His bright red hair was carefully tied back in a queue, his green eyes bright and curious. His clothes were properly sober and suited to a clerk. "Good afternoon. My name is Samuel Townsend."

"You!" The man hissed the word, his expression going from polite to angry in a heartbeat. "You'll not be takin' me boy away!"

He'd half-expected such a reaction and held up his free hand. "Calm down, Mr. Mulligan. I have no intention of taking your son away. I only wished to see how you were settling in here."

"Well enough." Though Hugh Mulligan relaxed slightly, his gaze remained suspicious. "I had an easier time findin' work than some o' the others who came across wit' me."

"Ah, that would be my doing." Samuel smiled a little sheepishly. "I knew Haines and Langdon needed more clerks and recommended they hire you should you come here. I'm pleased to hear that it worked out."

Hugh's expression became suspicious once again. "We don' need charity from the likes o' you."

"It's hardly charity," Samuel told him, a little exasperated by the man's pride. "If you're amenable to the idea, I'd like to get to know _you_."

This time, Hugh blinked and stared at Samuel in surprise. "Me? Why?"

"I wish to know my dream-mate's family and I imagine you're quite curious about me." Samuel offered his most friendly smile. "There's only so much we can learn through a six-year-old boy, isn't there?"

Behind him, the bell to the shop jingled and Hugh looked over Samuel's shoulder. He grew pale when he saw whoever had come in, his freckles standing out even more. A woman's voice came from behind Samuel, speaking with a stronger Irish accent than Hugh. "Me apologies. Maybe we should have waited to come."

Turning, Samuel saw a young woman who could only be Sarah Mulligan. She had two little boys with her. One had the same bright red hair as Hugh and looked curiously at Samuel. The other had blond hair, pulled back into a neat ponytail for once. Recognition dawned in the green eyes and a bright smile lit his face. "Uncle Sam!"

Dropping to one knee, Samuel caught Hercules when he threw himself bodily at him, hugging him tight. Though they'd hugged often when they dreamed, something about hugging Hercules in the waking world was just special. "Hello, Hercules, it's wonderful to meet you face-to-face."

"What is all this racket?" Samuel looked up when Mr. Langdon finally emerged from the office he and Mr. Haines shared, smiling sheepishly. "Mr. Townsend? I wasn't aware that you knew the Mulligans personally."

Carefully getting to his feet and picking up his abandoned cane, Samuel told him, "I _did_ recommend that you hire Mr. Mulligan. Surely you don't regret it?"

"Not at all. Best clerk we've had." Hugh looked startled by the praise, but pleased all the same. "Thank you very much for the recommendation."

"You're quite welcome." Samuel smiled and glanced at the Mulligan family. "I do believe it is lunchtime. Would anyone care to join me?"

"Go ahead, Mulligan. Those numbers can wait an hour."

"Thank you, sir." Hugh nodded and moved from behind the counter. "We'll be honored to join you, Mr. Townsend."

Nodding, Samuel led the family from the office. _Not exactly how I planned this, but we'll figure it out._

*

"Père, Mère, Tante Lise, a baby appeared in my dream last night," John André informed his parents when he was three years old. "It was very small."

Antoine André smiled warmly over at his wife across the table. "Meraviglioso, mio figlio. You have met your partner dei sognu."

"Oui, John," Marie Louise agreed with a nod a smile of her own. "Le partenaire de rêverie is the one person most suited to you. Did this bébé wear anything at all?"

John frowned, thinking. "A nappy and a dress."

"Chemise de nuit," Élise Robichaud, Marie's dream-mate, murmured thoughtfully.

"Was there embroidery?" Antoine asked, looking quite intrigued. "Some families, if they can, find a way to include their child's name on their nightclothes."

John looked from one to the other, frowning. "Why?"

"So their partenaire de rêverie will know their name from the start," Marie explained, still smiling at the thought of her son having a dream-mate.

Sighing, John told her, "I can't read well, Mère."

"Most names are easy to read," Élise assured him. "And you can draw the letters for us if you can't figure it out."

John nodded, smiling. He liked to draw. "Oui, Tante Lise."

*

When John came to breakfast the following morning, he had a paper with him, letters carefully copied onto it from memory. "He was there again, Père, Mère, Tante Lise. I found these letters on the inside of his chemise de nuit."

Antoine, Marie, and Élise eagerly bent over the paper. "Robert Townsend. That is a rather English name. Perhaps his family is somewhere in London."

"Perhaps. We will have to look."

*

"Sammy, Sammy." Ben shook his brother's shoulder. "Wake up!"

Groaning, Sam blinked awake and stared at his little brother. "Wazzit, Benny?"

"I dreamed about a baby!" Ben whispered, blue eyes wide. "It was just lying on the ground, crying."

The last of the sleep cleared from Sam's eyes. "That baby is your dream-mate, Benny."

"What's a dream-mate?" Ben frowned, kneeling amid their rumpled bedclothes.

Sam sat up and gathered Ben into a hug. "It's the one person in the world best suited to you. Most people have one and they often marry them if they do."

Wide-eyed once again, Ben asked, "Do you have one, Sammy?"

"Yes, it's Nathan Hale." Sam nodded, smiling fondly.

"Baby Nathan?" Ben made a face. "He's little."

"He's a year younger than you, Benny." Sam poked Ben in the stomach, making him giggle. "And he'll get bigger, just like us."

Ben nodded, still giggling a little. He looked forward to getting to know his 'mate, whoever he was. Maybe he was in America like little Nathan!

*

"I have news for you," Samuel told 15-year-old Hercules when the teenager finally appeared next to him at his favorite fishing spot.

Hercules raised an eyebrow at him, curious. "Really? What sort of news?"

"Good news. I'm to be a father again," Samuel informed him, smiling brightly. This child would be his and Sarah's third. Boy or girl, he'd love them all the same.

He didn't receive a smile in reply. Instead, Hercules drew his knees to his chest and stared moodily at the water. Quietly, he said, "Congratulations, I guess."

"You could at least _pretend_ to be happy," Samuel told him, exasperated. Hercules' moods had been very unpredictable of late and he'd yet to figure out why.

Hercules sighed deeply. "I'm just bein' stupid, I guess. About us bein' dream-mates and all."

"You know I've always wanted children of my own." Samuel rested a hand on Hercules' shoulder. He counted it as a good thing that the boy didn't shrug it off. "Watching you grow up has been a joy and I look forward to watching my own children do the same."

Now Hercules shrugged off Samuel's hand. "I'm not your son. I'm your 'mate."

"I'm well aware of that," he answered quietly, curling his hand into a fist at his side. The reason for Hercules' moods was becoming clear. "You are not yet of age, however."

After a few moments, Hercules turned to look at Samuel with wide eyes. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"

"You are growing into a handsome man, Hercules," Samuel told him, his voice still quiet. "I'd have to be blind and a fool not to see it."

Hercules shifted onto his knees, his gaze intent. "You would take me to your bed? What about Aunt Sarah?"

"We've discussed this, actually, and Sarah wouldn't object in the slightest if you shared my bed when you visit us." He put up a hand to stop Hercules when he moved closer, green eyes intent. "Not until you're of age."

A sly smile spread across Hercules' face. "Doesn't mean we can't kiss."

Chuckling, Samuel moved his hand to rest on Hercules' cheek. "Perhaps you should become a lawyer instead of a clerk."

"Perhaps." Hercules leaned forward and kissed Samuel.

He'd shared many kisses over the years with Sarah. None were as sweet or all-encompassing as this was, nor had they so completely absorbed his attention. _There's a reason he's my 'mate, after all._

When they parted, both were breathing raggedly. Hercules gave a rueful smile. "Waitin' is goin' to be difficult now."

"It'll be worth it in the end," Samuel assured him, gently combing his fingers through the fine blond hair. "For now, we won't do anything outside our dreams."

"What?" Hercules stared at him in dismay.

"It's far too easy to get carried away," Samuel told him firmly.

"Fine." Hercules gave huffy sigh.

"It doesn't mean we can't do anything _now_ ," Samuel reminded him.

He laughed when Hercules threw his arms around him and kissed him again.

*

It transpired that not only was Ben's 'mate not in Setauket, but he wasn't even in America at all. He was a French aristocrat named Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. "Most people call me Gilbert if they use my name at all, but I'd like it if you called me Yves."

"Bien sûr," Ben told him with a grin. Thanks to Yves, he spoke French as naturally as he did English and the reverse held true for Yves.

As they grew older, they learned that Yves would have to marry a woman to pass on his legacy. "If I didn't have this title, it wouldn't matter, mon cœur, but--"

"You do and it does." Ben kissed Yves, light and sweet. "Je comprends. If we can share you, it will be enough."

Yves nodded firmly. "Oui, I will make it clear to my future wife, whoever she may be."

In the end, Yves married Marie Adrienne Françoise de Noailles, the daughter of Duc d'Ayen. It helped that her dream-mate was another noblewoman. She gladly kept Adrienne company while Yves finished his education.

*

As Samuel predicted, Hercules grew up into a fine young man. He attended King's College and worked as a clerk for his father, who'd taken over the accounting firm when Mr. Haines and Mr. Langdon decided they didn't like the growing tension between England and the American colonies. That didn't last long and Hercules soon opened a tailoring and haberdashery business. Samuel supported him every step of the way. It did mean, however, that Hercules had to stay in York City while Samuel's responsibilities kept him in Oyster Bay for the most part. Being dream-mates made the separation easier, though they both made efforts to see each other in person.

Hercules did so well at his business that he soon needed to take on a business partner. He chose one of his assistants, an immigrant from Africa who called himself Cato. His people, it seemed, only shared their true name with family and very close friends. He'd come to America to find his dream-mate. "I'd have done the same if my parents hadn't brought us here."

"Or I'd have traveled to Ireland myself to meet you once you were older," Samuel told Hercules with a warm smile. "Has Cato found his mate?"

Nodding, Hercules told him, "Elizabeth Sanders. She's the niece of Admiral Charles Sanders of the British Royal Navy."

"Her family must be very happy about that." He shook his head with a sad sigh. It'd been more than a hundred years since Europeans started trading with Africans. Even now, some thought Africans were somehow worse than them, even though Africans had dream-mates, too, some of whom were European.

Hercules shrugged, leaning against Samuel's shoulder. "They've had her whole life to get used to the idea at least."

"Will they marry?" Samuel asked, leaning into Hercules' warmth.

Nodding again, Hercules smiled. "They will, after an appropriate amount of time has passed."

"Please tell them I said congratulations and I hope they'll be happy together." Samuel smiled, glad that matters would work out for Cato.

Giving another nod, Hercules gently turned Samuel's head so he could kiss him. Samuel responded happily to the kiss, wrapping his arms around Hercules.

*

Once he understood why he always dreamt of John André, Robert wasn't sure what to make of having a dream-mate. Like his mother, he was a very private person and preferred to choose how close people got to him. He had no choice when it came to his dream-mate. He was always there when Robert went to sleep. Father said that a dream-mate didn't mean they had to marry. Father and his 'mate certainly weren't. Though that was more due to the large age difference between them. "You don't have one and you're happy, Mother. Why couldn't it be the same for me?"

"Because God decided that you do need a 'mate," Sarah answered gently and calmly, smiling fondly up at her son. "I fear it's because troubled times are ahead and you'll need the support of a 'mate in a way that I never did."

Though Robert was not yet thirteen, he understood what his mother meant. On one of his visits to Oyster Bay, Uncle Hercules told them he'd joined the Sons of Liberty and there were groups of them all over the colonies. _"The Penal Laws drove my family here from Ireland. I refuse to stand by and do nothin' while somethin' similar happens here."_ Samuel hugged Uncle Hercules then, murmuring quietly to him so he'd calm down.

Robert resolved to make the best of his situation. It helped that John was very patient for a fifteen-year-old. He gave Robert time and space to answer questions, waiting for him to think things through first. If Robert couldn't or wouldn't answer, John didn't press him for one. Robert supposed that's why John was his dream-mate and not someone else.

*

Robert is seventeen when John tells him that he's joined the Army. "Père is trying to arrange an assignment to America for me. I want to meet you."

"We met when I was born," Robert reminded him mildly, a small smile peeking out. "I'm sure you'll be a credit to whichever unit you're assigned."

Laughing softly, John nudged Robert's shoulder with his own. "You could show a little more enthusiasm, Robert."

"I _am_ enthusiastic, John." He couldn't resist maintaining the blank expression that usually frustrated people.

John only laughed harder. "I _will_ find you, Robert. Though, it'd be nice if you'd give me more of a clue than which colony you're in."

"That would defeat the purpose of challenging you, though," Robert pointed out, as he always did when John brought this up.

Sighing theatrically, John leaned against Robert's shoulder. "At least we have dreams until we can meet in the waking world.

"Yes, we do." Robert sighed softly, admitting in the privacy of his thoughts that a 'mate wasn't all that bad.

*

"Welcome home, Robbie," Hercules greeted nineteen-year-old Robert with a warm smile.

Handing his hat and cloak to the maid, Robert gave his adopted uncle a mild glare. "I asked you to stop calling me that, Uncle."

"Right, I do apologize, Robert." Hercules pronounced his proper name with a pointed look at Robert, who nodded slightly. "I wanted to warn you. I've taken on a tenant."

Raising his eyebrows, Robert asked, "Another immigrant?"

"Well, yes." Hercules gave a sheepish laugh. "Come along and meet him."

Amused, Robert followed Hercules to the parlor. A delicate-looking young man with bright red hair and piercing blue eyes stood up as they entered the room. "Who is your friend, Hercules? Your dream-mate?"

Hercules laughed while Robert shook his head. "No, definitely not. This is Robert Townsend. His father is my dream-mate. Robert, this is Alexander Hamilton. He just arrived from the Caribbean earlier this week. Hugh introduced him to me and I offered to take him in since it's just the two of us here."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hamilton," Robert told him with a small smile and offering his hand. "Welcome to America."

Smiling back, Mr. Hamilton shook Robert's hand firmly. "Enchanté de faire votre connaissance, Monsieur Townsend."

"You speak French?" Hercules asked, looking surprised.

Alexander looked worried, pressing his lips together. Gently, Robert told him, "C'est bon, Monsieur Hamilton. Je parle français aussi."

"You're the first person I've met in America who speaks it." Alexander looked impressed. "When did you start learning it?"

Hercules smiled proudly. "Robert grew up speakin' French, Italian, and German as well as English because of his dream-mate."

"That's enough, Uncle. I'm going to freshen up for dinner." Robert didn't like telling just anyone about his 'mate. He turned back to Mr. Hamilton, nodding politely to him. "I look forward to getting to know you, Mr. Hamilton."

Mr. Hamilton nodded back, smiling. "Moi aussi, Mr. Townsend."

"Don't take long, Robert." Hercules patted Robert's shoulder. "Dinner should be ready soon."

Nodding, Robert turned and headed to his room. _It's going to be interesting to have Mr. Hamilton around._

*

Anticipating Hercules and Robert's visit from York City, Samuel settled himself on a bench in front of the house, reviewing the ledgers for his trading ships as he waited. As the sun climbed into the sky, Samuel began to watch the road more than his work. He smiled when he spotted Hercules' carriage on the road and closed his ledgers, tucking them under his arm. He walked over to wait by the front door for the carriage to arrive. When it stopped, the stable hand opened the door for Hercules, who climbed out, smiling brightly, and hugged Samuel. "Hello, love, it's wonderful to see you, as always."

"Always, love," Samuel hugged him back, smiling. He turned back to the carriage as Robert climbed out. "Hello, Robert. You're looking well."

Offering a typical small smile, Robert hugged Samuel warmly. "It's good to be home, Father, even if only for a visit."

"Your mother and sisters have missed you," Samuel told him, raising his eyebrows when both Robert and Hercules turned back to the carriage. "Did you bring Cato along?"

Before either Robert or Hercules could answer, a strange young man with bright red hair who looked to be a few years younger than Robert climbed carefully out of the carriage. "A tenant, of sorts. This is Alexander Hamilton. He just arrived in New York a few days ago. Alex, this is my dream-mate and Robert's father, Samuel Townsend."

"Hello, it's good to meet you, Mr. Townsend." Alexander offered his hand with a polite smile that didn't quite hide his surprise as he looked between Hercules and Samuel.

Samuel shook his hand with a warm, welcoming smile, patently ignoring Alexander's surprise. "Hello, Mr. Hamilton. Welcome to America and Oyster Bay."

"Merci, Monsieur." Alexander bit his lip the next moment. "Sorry."

Robert shook his head as Hercules clapped Alexander's shoulder. " Inutile de vous excuser, Alexander."

"Just speak whichever language works for you," Samuel added, and then gestured to the door. "Come in and meet our family."

Nodding, Alexander followed them into the house. Tzipporah hesitated only a moment when she saw Alexander, taking Samuel's ledgers as well as Hercules, Robert, and Alexander's hats. Samuel quietly asked her to have the one remaining guest room made up for Alexander. As she disappeared, Alexander remarked, "You have a lovely home, Mr. Townsend."

"It's not all my doing, of course." Samuel gestured for Alexander to follow him to the sitting room. "My wife helped."

When they entered the sitting room, his wife and daughters stood up: Sarah from the settee, embroidery in hand; twenty-year-old Audrey from the spot nearest the fire, folded newspaper at her side; seventeen-year-old Sarah (called Sally) from her seat beside her mother, a shirt in her hands; and fourteen-year-old Phebe from the chair next to the settee, a pair of knitting needles with a half-finished blanket dangling from her hands. Phebe lit up, dropping her project onto the chair. "Uncle Hercules! Robert!"

"Hello, Phebe." Hercules laughed as she hurried forward and hugged them tight. As the others followed suit, he greeted each of them in turn. Robert simply returned their hugs, a small smile on his lips. "Sally, Audrey, Sarah."

Sarah held Hercules' hands in hers when she stepped back from his hug. "We've missed you."

"I've missed all of you, too, but we brought a friend with us." Hercules turned to gesture to Alexander, who stepped forward. "This is Alexander Hamilton. He just arrived in America and he's living with me in York City for now. Alex, this is the rest of my family: Samuel's wife, Sarah, and their daughters: Audrey, Sally, and Phebe."

Alexander bowed to them as a group. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too." Audrey curtsied to him and offered her hand. He took it, bowing and kissing the back. "Welcome to America, Mr. Hamilton."

Sally giggled when Alexander bowed and kissed her hand. "It is a large pleasure, Mr. Hamilton. My name is really Sarah, but everyone calls me Sally, since Mother's name is Sarah, too."

"I will keep that in mind, Miss Sally." Alexander smiled at her explanation.

"You're very welcome here, Mr. Hamilton." Phebe added pointedly. Sally stepped aside so Alexander could take her sister's hand, which he did.

Sarah gestured to the extra chairs that the servants had brought in, as well as another tea set. "Please, sit and tell us about where you're from, Mr. Alexander."

"Just an island in the Caribbean, nowhere special," Alexander told them, taking the seat Sarah had indicated when the rest of them sat. "I see why Hercules' house in York City is so quiet with just him and Robert. Their hearts aren't there."

Audrey smiled as she folded the newspaper smaller and set it on the table next to the rocking chair, helping to pour tea for everyone. "You're very observant, Mr. Hamilton."

"Peut-être, peut-être pas." Alexander shrugged modestly.

Mildly, Robert commented, "No perhaps about it, Monsieur Hamilton."

"You've caught me out, Monsieur Robert," Alexander smiled at Robert.

Robert shook his head slightly, his expression calm though Samuel could see amusement in his eyes. "Just Robert, Alexander."

"Oui, Robert," Alexander mused, asking for milk when Audrey asked him how he took his tea. "Never Rob or Robbie?"

Sipping his tea, Robert calmly told him, "Never twice."

"Unless you're family," Phebe interjected with a playful smile for her brother.

Robert shook his head at her. "I prefer my given name. You know that, Phebe."

Phebe opened her mouth to reply, but Audrey rested a hand on her sister's arm. Phebe looked at her indignantly, and yet accepted the cup that her sister handed her. Clearing his throat, Samuel asked Alexander, "Do you plan to go to school at all, Mr. Hamilton?"

"Oui, Monsieur Townsend." Alexander nodded and Samuel noticed that he fidgeted with his teacup as he answered.

Looking proud, Hercules added, "Alex wants to go to King's College."

"It's a good school," Samuel smiled reassuringly at Alexander. "Good luck."

Alexander nodded and they all settled in for a nice, long visit. _He sounds like an interesting young man. I look forward to getting to know him._

*

As usual, Yves waited for Ben. This time, they were in the forest that bordered Yves' chateau. He smiled brightly when he saw Ben, approaching with open arms. "Benjamin!"

"Yves." Ben hugged Yves tightly, needing the reassurance of his warmth after the news he'd received from Nathan.

Yves' arms, warm and solid, wrapped around Ben tightly. "What is it, mon cœur? What has happened?"

Still holding tight to Yves, Ben told him, "Fighting has broken out. At Lexington and Concord in Massachusetts. America is at war with England."

"Will you fight?" Yves asked quietly, smoothing his hands down Ben's back in long strokes.

Ben gave a shuddering sigh. "I don't know. I believe in the cause, but I don't want to die and leave you alone."

"I won't be alone, mon cœur." Gently, Yves eased him back so their eyes could meet. "I have Adrienne and our future children.

Sighing, Ben gestured at their surroundings. "I meant here, mon amour. Father misses Mother terribly, even after eight years."

"Benjamin, don't think about that. Think about what you could do for your country by signing up to fight. And--" he held up a hand when Ben started to protest. "I intend to travel to America to help her fight for independence."

He stared at Yves with wide eyes. "Are you sure? It's not going to be easy."

"Neither will actually fighting for independence. Will that stop your fellow Americans?" Yves raised his eyebrows at Ben.

He shook his head reluctantly. "No, it won't."

Yves smiled and squeezed Ben's hands firmly. "I will do everything I can to help your country's fight, Benjamin."

"Merci, mon amour." Ben hugged Yves tightly.

"De rien, mon cœur." Yves hugged him back, just as tightly.

*

"I'm being transferred to New York," John informed Robert not long after fighting began at Lexington and Concord. They sat side-by-side on Robert's bed in his childhood bedroom. While Robert wore a nightshirt, John had only stripped down to his shirt, breeches, and stockings before falling asleep. "Now that the rebellion has brought bloodshed."

Robert nodded, saying nothing as he picked through everything on his mind. He longed to do something to help the Patriots, but he couldn't abide the thought of setting aside his upbringing enough to bear arms. Rather than speak of his longing, he instead told John, "Many fellow New Yorkers have joined the war on either side."

"Hopefully, this rebellion won't last long and they'll be home soon," John assured Robert with a confident smile. "You didn't join them?"

He gave John a dry look, recognizing that John was teasing him. "I'm a _Quaker_ , remember?"

"I'm sure there are ways you could help the British Army without having to fight." John gave him a charming smile. "If you did, then we'd find each other that much sooner."

He hid a wince at John's assumption that he would automatically side with the British. _Why would he think otherwise? Most of my fellow Quakers oppose the 'rebellion', after all._ "I'm sure there are, but I prefer to remain completely neutral in this conflict. Especially given your confidence that it won't last long anyway."

"You're determined to make finding you a true challenge, aren't you?" John looked more amused than annoyed by Robert's continuing reticence.

Robert allowed himself a small smile at that comment. "You like the fact that I'm challenging you to find me rather than simply telling you where and how to do it. You wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much."

"You know me well." John laughed, and then leaned over to kiss Robert, soft and swift.

He froze, staring at John. He'd kissed Robert's cheeks and forehead before, but never his lips. It was… nice. Noticing worry starting to appear on John's face, Robert leaned over to kiss him back. Making a soft sound of pleasure, John pulled Robert even closer, deepening the kiss. As he gave himself up to the unexpected pleasure of kissing John, Robert dimly mused, _This is one way to distract him from uncomfortable topics._

*

_Dear Hercules,_

_I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I'm alive and well. Can't say where I am right now. It all looks the same to me: trees, trees, and more trees. I didn't see nearly this many back home, nor were they quite this same, vibrant green. It's beautiful in its way, but I rather miss home. How's your family doing? Anything noteworthy to report? Has Robert finally got off the fence and decided to do something besides run that boarding house? I bet he just flits around serving his guests and beating them at draughts. A man as smart as that could do so much and he does nothing. Bit of a shame, really. C'est la vie. Oops, that slipped in there. I know you don't mind._

_ Oh! I finally met one of my dream-mates! We caused a bit of a scene when we saw each other. Quite scandalized everyone around us. Knowing you, I bet you'd have laughed if you'd seen it. All this time, trying so hard to find each other, and it took a war to bring us together. That makes it worth it, to me, anyway. Still looking for the other one. I hope Robert finds his 'mate. Maybe he'll help him off that fence of his. I'll stop harping on that topic. Give my best to the whole family. I miss them. _

_ Sincerely,  
Alexander _

Chuckling at some points and outright guffawing at others, Hercules finished Alexander's letter in a thoughtful mood. "Are you still with me, Cato?"

"Was that letter from Alexander?" Cato asked, nodding to the letter in Hercules' hand.

"Indeed, it was." Hercules skimmed through the letter one more time before folding it back up. "The discussion we had before he left has come to fruition."

Cato looked at Hercules blankly. "Froo-ishun?"

"Alex talked to Washington and he would be glad of any information we can pass on," Hercules explained patiently. Cato spoke English so well these days that Hercules sometimes forgot that he hadn't grown up speaking it.

Nodding firmly, Cato told him, "I'm still with you, Hercules."

"Thank you, Cato."

*

Still looking at the report he'd received, Ben spoke as he entered the tent that they'd been using as their war room. "Sir, we just received--"

"Major Tallmadge, please come in. I've been expecting you," a younger, redheaded man interrupted Ben, stopping him in his tracks. The stranger barely paused in his writing.

Feeling unsettled, Ben told him, "Forgive me, sir, I was expecting the General. I don't believe that we've met."

The stranger finished writing and stood up straight, nodding slightly. "Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, at your service." 

"Ah yes of course!" Ben recognized the name. He hadn't expected someone quite like this. Hamilton didn't seem able to remain still. "Our new aide-de-camp. The General's been speaking very highly of you. And stories of your valor at Trenton are widely known."

Hamilton flashed him a smile and moved over to a side table that held a decanter and two glasses and began to pour out some of the General's Madeira. "Well it's a shame you missed that battle, Major. We could have used you in the field. From what I hear you missed the boat." He gave Ben a pointed look at that.

He ducked his head, remembering how Yves had worried when Ben had floated in and out of their shared dreams. That stung more than the fact that he'd fallen into the river in the first place, though Caleb hadn't hesitated to tease Ben once he was no longer in danger of freezing to death.

Hamilton seemed to recognize that he'd found a sore spot and sought to soothe the feathers he'd ruffled. "Relax, Tallmadge, it's all in good fun. Have a drink with me." With that he closed the distance between the two of them and handed Ben a glass. He accepted, but didn't drink just yet, not sure what to think of Hamilton.

The man's mind seemed to work faster than anyone else's. Ben watched as Hamilton leaned back against the table, crossing one ankle over the other. _He's not as easy as he appears. He has something on his mind._

"Besides, you and I both know that our victory at Trenton would never have been possible had it not been for your intelligence. It seems that you and your friends on Long Island have accomplished a great deal. To the Culper Ring." Hamilton raised his glass and swiftly downed its contents before Ben had the chance to echo his toast.

He quickly followed suit and allowed himself to enjoy the wine for a few moments before setting down his glass and preparing to leave. "Was there something else you wanted, Colonel, or should I take my leave?"

"Perhaps we can keep each other company while we work." Hamilton raised his eyebrows at Ben. "Unless that will be a problem for you?"

Shaking his head, Ben walked over to the desk Hamilton had indicated. "No, it won't be a problem at all, Colonel."

"Merci, Majeur Tallmadge." Hamilton bent to his work once again.

Only once he was sure that Hamilton was focused on his work did Ben reply, "De rien, Colonel Hamilton."

As he bent to his own work, he didn't notice the smile that twitched at the corners of Hamilton's mouth.

*

"Yves!" Ben stood up from where he'd been waiting in the shadow of his father's church in Setauket. "Have you landed?"

Nodding, Yves greeted Ben with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. "Oui. I am glad to be on solid ground once more. We are in South Carolina and will travel to Pennsylvania as quickly as we can."

Ben smiled, returning Yves' greeting happily. "Soon, we will meet outside our dreams."

"I surprised your friend, John Laurens," Yves told him, his smile turning mischievous. "He hadn't expected me to speak English at all, let alone as well as I do."

Chuckling, Ben led Yves over to sit in the shade provided by the church. "Most of your countrymen who beat you here refuse to learn English at all."

"Clearly, they didn't have the benefit of un partenaire de rêverie in America or England." Yves laughed as they sat down, leaning back against the church.

Ben leaned against Yves' shoulder, smiling when Yves wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Clearly. John's 'mate, Alexander, has promised to try to arrange for us to meet in private. He remembers what it was like when he and John first met face-to-face."

"I'm looking forward to it." His smile fond, Yves pressed a kiss to the top of Ben's head.

Sighing contentedly, Ben told him, "I am, too. I have plenty of work to keep me busy while I wait for your arrival."

"What is this work? You haven't told me," Yves asked quietly.

Ben sighed again, a little anxious about Yves' reaction to his news. "General Washington has made me Head of Intelligence for the Continental Army."

"Head of Intelligence?" Yves pulled back so he could look at Ben. "That is an important post, is it not?"

He nodded, not sure what to make of Yves' reaction. "Oui, it is. I didn't expect the appointment. I just-- my entire unit was ambushed by Rogers' Rangers. They knew _exactly_ where to find us. I didn't want to see that happen to another unit if I could prevent it at all."

"That is why you received the appointment," Yves told him, smiling proudly. "You acted to help the army, with no thought of being rewarded for it. That is why I am refusing a salary for my appointment. I do not need the money. I am fighting because it is the right thing to do."

Ben cupped Yves' cheek, his gaze intent. "Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime aussi." Yves gazed back at Ben just as intently.

A longing sound escaped as Ben stretched up to kiss Yves. They'd pleasured each other with their hands and mouths, but had agreed to wait to fully consummate their love in the waking world first. Knowing that Yves was so very close made Ben rather giddy. Soon they wouldn't need to dream to see each other and he couldn't wait.

*

Yves alighted from the carriage with a sigh of relief, stretching thoroughly to ease the cramping of his limbs. Being so tall didn't always work in his favor. "Jack!"

"Alex!" John Laurens, who'd met Yves in South Carolina, beamed as he caught a shorter, redheaded man in a tight embrace. After several moments and a brief kiss, John turned back to Yves. "Monsieur, I'd like you to meet one of my dream-mates, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton. Alex, this is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, our newest recruit from France."

The redhead bowed, smiling warmly. "A pleasure to meet you, Monsieur."

"Enchanté de faire votre connaissance, Colonel Hamilton," Yves replied with a bow of his own, musing that John's remarks about his dream-mate hadn't been far off the mark.

The two men exchanged smiles and Hamilton gestured for Yves to follow them. "Your men will be directed to their lodgings. We'll take you to yours."

"You are too kind." Yves clasped his hands behind his back as he fell into step with the other two. Even if no one had told him that they were dream-mates, it showed in how easily they fell in step with each other and how they seemed to speak to each other without saying a word. He hoped that the same would hold true for himself and Ben when they were finally face-to-face.

*

"Are you all right, Major Tallmadge?" William Lee, Washington's valet and close companion asked Ben as they waited at the tavern for dinner to be served.

Ben managed a tiny smile. He wished desperately that Alexander had been able to arrange for him and Yves to meet privately, but it hadn't been possible. "Yes, I'm fine, Billy. I received word that another French officer arrived today to receive his commission from Congress."

"His Excellency ain't gonna like that," Billy muttered, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was nearby to hear them. "The others haven't exactly been useful, if you catch my meanin'."

He nodded, his smile turning tight. He could only hope that Yves would make a good impression on the general. "Je sais." At Billy's puzzled look, he quickly corrected himself. He'd been thinking about Yves too much today. "I know. Forgive me."

"Was that French?" Billy asked, looking curious.

Before Ben could reply, it was time to sit down to dinner. Ben sat across the table from Washington, leaving a few chairs for the missing aides and Yves. He didn't look up from his food until silence fell on the room. Tench Tilghman entered the room, closely followed Alexander and John whispering to each other. They, in turn, were followed by a familiar figure, resplendent in the uniform of a Major General. With all eyes on them, Alexander stood as tall as he could. "Gentlemen, may I introduce to you our newest volunteer and Major General, the Marquis de Lafayette."

"I am honored to be here." Yves spoke English with hardly a trace of accent, his eyes flitting over the gathered men. Ben hid a smile at the surprised whispers that swept through the room. He didn't look away when Yves' eyes landed on him, his heart thumping in his chest at the eye contact. _Hopefully we can meet later._

In short order, the four men were seated at the table, Yves across from Washington, which put him just a few seats away from Ben. Alexander and John sat next to Washington and Ben caught an apologetic glance from Alexander. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the apology. Leaning forward slightly, he asked, "Marquis, if I may ask, why are you fighting for us? You don't exactly have a vested interest in our cause."

"No, but I do..." Yves trailed off meaningfully.

Grinning, Ben told him, "My apologies, Monsieur. I'm Major Benjamin Tallmadge."

"Major. I do have a vested interest in the American cause," Yves replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. They'd had this discussion several times in the privacy of their dreams. "When I first heard of America's struggle to make herself heard by her king, my heart went out to her. Your people have a beautiful spirit that yearns for a liberty that is sadly lacking in Europe. I hope that the example of your fight will inspire other peoples, including mine."

Ben nodded, the speech familiar to him. "In order to properly inspire them, we'll simply have to win, won't we? With your help, perhaps we will."

"That is my hope, oui." Yves nodded, a blush suffusing his cheeks when he realized that he'd slipped into French for a moment.

Washington distracted them, asking in his measured, calm voice, "You speak English very well, Marquis. How long have you studied it?"

"I haven't studied it as such, Excellency," Yves replied, carefully keeping his eyes on Washington. "My dream-mate speaks English, so we grew up speaking each other's languages."

Nodding slightly, Washington only said, "That is most useful."

"Perhaps you can help with translation," Alexander piped up, his eyes glinting with amusement.

John nudged Alexander and whispered something to him. Alexander whispered something back, still grinning. Washington hardly looked at the two of them. "Gentlemen, that's enough."

They subsided and Ben remained quiet for the rest of dinner. He watched as Yves managed to charm the men around him with his earnest questions and clearly genuine desire to be of help to the American cause.

After dinner, Yves made his way to Ben's side, keeping his voice quiet as he asked, "Voulez-vous dire au général à propos de nous?"

"Oui, ce serait meilleur," Ben agreed just as quietly.

Nodding, Yves gestured for Ben to follow him. "Colonel Hamilton has arranged a private meeting for us with General Washington."

"Of course he did." Ben chuckled and followed Yves through the crowd.

As he'd expected, General Washington waited in the private room they entered, as well as Alexander, John, Tench, and William. "Marquis. Major Tallmadge."

"Sir." Benjamin wasted no time straightening to a position of attention.

Yves bowed slightly to Washington. "Excellency, I asked to meet with you privately because Major Tallmadge and I have something we wished to tell you."

"We are dream-mates, Sir," Ben interjected, not daring to look at Yves just yet. "We will still serve the Army in our chosen capacities."

Yves took over from there. "Even if that means we will be separate from each other for extended periods of time."

"That explains your fluency in English, Marquis," Washington observed quietly. His expression remained neutral, though Ben wondered if he imagined a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Thank you for telling me, Gentlemen. For now, the Marquis will join the headquarters staff." Before Yves could protest, Washington continued, "I know you joined to command troops, but we need time to get to know you and your capabilities."

Nodding, Yves sighed softly. "Yes, Excellency."

"Besides, I imagine you would appreciate the chance to spend time with Major Tallmadge before your duties separate you."

Ben didn't quite stifle a laugh. That time he was sure he saw a glint of amusement in Washington's eyes. "Thank you, General."

"You two are dismissed until morning. We'll see you then." Washington nodded slightly to them.

Smiling a little, Ben nodded back and took Yves' hand in his. "Thank you, General. Bonne nuit."

"Good night," Yves added, beaming.

As they hurried from the room, Alexander called, "Have fun, you two!"

Stifling his laughter, Ben led Yves from the tavern and to the house that had been serving as their headquarters in Philadelphia. They made it up to Ben's room without running into anyone. The moment the door closed behind them, Yves pulled Ben to him for a hungry kiss. "Mon cœur, I've been waiting for this."

"Moi aussi, mon amour," Ben replied, kissing Yves back with matched hunger. "We don't have to wait any longer."

Yves moaned deeply, tilting his head up so Ben could kiss his neck, which was particularly sensitive. "Dieu, we are wearing too many clothes."

"D'accord." With that, they began helping each other out of their clothes, eager to consummate their feelings for each other at last.

*

As Washington had predicted, Ben and Yves' duties did eventually separate them. The first separation took place because Washington wanted Ben to support General Arnold. Yves remained with Washington as they prepared to defend Philadelphia at the Brandywine River. After the debacle that was the Battle of Setauket, they set up camp in Connecticut so they could properly tend to their wounded. Once Ben saw his men settled, he retired to his tent to begin writing his report to Washington. _How do I explain all of this?_

"Ben?" His father's voice at the tent flap surprised him. He'd expected him to be with the wounded, offering comfort as a man of God.

Standing up and setting his travelling desk on his camp bed, he pulled the flap back. "Father, come in."

"Thank you, Ben." Nathaniel stepped inside the tent and glanced around for a moment. It was crowded with his and Caleb's camp beds and a couple camp chairs. He turned back to Ben once the tent flap fell closed. "How did you know?"

Ben told him about running into Walter Havers, who'd told them about the situation in Setauket. "We didn't know what sort of man Major Hewlett was, but we certainly knew what Captain Simcoe was like."

"Truthfully, young Abe handled himself well for a case he intended to lose," Nathaniel told him with a wry twist of his mouth. "Your arrival precipitated Simcoe into action."

He sighed heavily, slumping onto his cot. "I-- Even hearing that you'd be sentenced to a prison ship-- No, even if I'd known that, I would have come anyway."

"Sam is--" Nathaniel clearly meant to comfort Ben, but his brother's name cut him like a knife.

Quite without meaning to, he blurted out, "Sam is dead!"

"What?" Nathaniel stared at Ben, the genial smile slipping from his face. "Are you sure?"

Nodding, it took Ben a few moments to find his voice. "Yes. Selah was with him when-- when he-- Dieu, I can't say it."

"Oh, Ben." Nathaniel reached over and took Ben's hand in his, squeezing tight.

A lost sound escaped Ben and he pulled his father into a tight hug, tears spilling over. Nathaniel hugged him back as they grieved for their lost brother and son. When his tears had dried, Ben murmured, "At least he's with Nathan again."

"Indeed." Nathaniel managed a watery chuckle. Wiping his eyes, he asked, "Have you met your 'mate yet, Ben?"

Caleb answered from the tent flap, his smile a shadow of the cheeky grin he usually wore. "He has, Uncle Nathaniel. One of our French allies, he is."

"I rather suspected as much, given Ben's knowledge of French." Nathaniel reached up and shook Caleb's hand warmly. "It's good to see you, too, Caleb."

Smiling faintly, Caleb sat down on his camp bed. "Has Bennyboy told you that he's Head of Intelligence for General Washington?"

"Caleb!" Ben hissed, wishing his friend knew how to be discrete.

Nathaniel looked at Ben curiously. "Head of Intelligence? Really?"

"I didn't mean to end up with the post," Ben told him sheepishly, deciding there was no point in keeping it secret now.

Later, after Nathaniel left to get some sleep, Ben turned to write his report. Now that he'd talked things over with his father, he felt a little better about what he'd have to say to Washington. _Too bad I can't always talk things over with Father._

*

Yves closed his eyes on Ben's beloved face and opened them on the dimness of a hospital tent at night. He could make out a maze of cots, occupied by other injured men. On a stool beside his own cot, Ben sat slumped over, half-resting on Yves' chest. Even in sleep, he held one of Yves' hands in both of his. Just as he shifted his free hand to stroke Ben's lovely hair, he noticed the dimness lightening too quickly to be natural. Looking around, he spotted a shadowy figure holding a shaded lantern working his way through the cots. "Qui est-là?"

"I don't know what you said, but you can relax, Monsieur," the stranger replied, moving closer. Something about his voice was familiar. "I'm on your side."

Amused, Yves gently stroked Ben's hair. "I didn't think you _were_ an enemy, sir. Few people visit at this hour."

The stranger chuckled as he finally reached the foot of Yves' cot. "I know. I simply wanted to be sure that my sons were sleeping."

"Sons?" Yves echoed, the lantern illuminating the man's face and helping him to see his resemblance to Ben. _That's why his voice is familiar!_ "Révérend Tallmadge!"

Mr. Tallmadge put a finger to his lips before resting his hand on Ben's shoulder. "Shh. Ben was quite frantic when he heard you'd been injured."

"I did not realize it was that bad," Yves muttered, combing his fingers through Ben's hair when he showed signs of stirring. In an effort to redirect the conversation, he asked, "You said son _s_. Is Sam here?"

The fond smile on Mr. Tallmadge's face faded and he looked older without it. Quietly, he confided, "Ben already told me about Sam."

"Then who else did you mean?" Yves wondered. The only other person he could think of was Caleb Brewster, but he wasn't in the tent.

Amusement glinted in Mr. Tallmadge's eyes at the question. "I meant _you_ , Monsieur le Marquis. Since you are Ben's 'mate, you're as much a part of the family as he is."

Yves blamed his wounds for the tears that stung his eyes at the thought of Mr. Tallmadge accepting him so readily as Ben's 'mate. "Please, Révérend. If you consider me your son, call me Gilbert. There's no need for formality."

"Only if you call me Nathaniel," Mr. Tallmadge told him in return. "I'd suggest Father, but that may take you some time. You didn't grow up knowing me after all."

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Yves asked, "What did Sam's 'mate call you?"

"Uncle Nathaniel." A small smile appeared on Mr. Tallmadge's face. "I would be honored if you decided to call me that."

Yves tested the words on his tongue. "Oncle Nathaniel. Uncle Nathaniel. Oui, I can do that."

"Bien, je suis satisfait," Ben mumbled, sighing and straightening up the next moment.

Noticing Ben's wince as he stretched, Yves cupped his cheek with one hand. "You should sleep in your own bed, Benjamin. I'm out of danger now. All I need is rest."

"I sleep better with you," Ben admitted in a whisper.

Nathaniel patted Ben's shoulder. "It's best you don't give the doctors a reason to keep you from Gilbert's side, Ben."

"Yes, Father." His cheeks reddening, Ben nevertheless leaned forward to kiss Yves softly. "Get well soon, mon amour."

Returning the sweet kiss, Yves whispered back, "I'll do my best, mon cœur. Don't work too hard."

"I'll do my best." Ben smiled fondly and reluctantly stood up.

Yves watched father and son walk from the tent with a fond smile. Alone now, he let the happy tears fall. He had a father again.


	2. Building Up and Falling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Establishing a spy ring is hard work, especially when your people don't talk to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Covers the events of season two and part of season three.

"Robert. There is more to your refusal than a wish to keep your head down." Samuel at least waited until Woodhull had left before mentioning it.

Sighing, Robert tugged at his cravat. "I have my reasons, Father. He doesn't need to know them."

"This is another chance for you to help," Samuel told him, leaning forward urgently. He meant Robert's brief appointment as a commissary to General Nathaniel Woodhull, a distant cousin to Abraham Woodhull. In the end, it had come to nothing and Robert eventually returned to the family farm in Oyster Bay while avoiding British patrols.

Turning from the wardrobe after he'd hung up his frock coat, Robert raised his eyebrows. "Considering how well _that_ went, how much better do you expect this would go?"

Samuel sighed as Robert unbuttoned his waistcoat. "From what you said, that was affected by matters beyond your control. With this, however, you'll have control of what you see, hear, and report. Your natural caution will serve you well."

Turning to his father, Robert reminded him, "They already have Uncle Hercules reporting to them about his clients thanks to Alex. Why do they need me?"

"There's only so much he and Cato can overhear," Samuel told him quietly, his grip tightening on the knob of his cane at the reminder of the danger his 'mate faced every day. "You know that."

Robert turned away, slipping off his shoes and tucking them into the wardrobe. His back to his father, he finally said, "My 'mate is an officer in the British Army. If I do this, I could one day pass on information that will lead to his death. His blood would be on my hands."

Samuel remained silent for several moments, digesting what Robert had told him. All this time, Robert had only told his family that his 'mate was an Englishman named John and spoke several languages. Nothing more than that. Finally, Samuel gave a deep sigh and carefully stood up. "We each must find a way to live with the decisions we make, Robert. I've said my piece, as Abe has. Now, all that remains is for you to choose."

"Give my regards to Uncle Hercules." Robert turned and hugged Samuel tight. He understood why his father wanted him to spy and the idea of doing his part for the Continental Army without having to bear arms _did_ appeal. At the same time, he hated the idea that he could somehow be responsible for John's death.

"I will." Samuel returned the hug just as tightly. He eased back enough to meet Robert's eyes. "God gave us the ability to choose, Robert. Remember that."

Nodding, Robert waited until the door closed behind Samuel before sitting down in the chair that faced the fireplace. He stared into the flames until his eyes closed on them and opened on the gardens of the André family home in London. John stood nearby, wearing a linen shirt and white breeches. A smile quirked John's mouth. "You fell asleep in your clothes for once."

Robert glanced down at himself and managed a ghost of a smile. "So I did. It's been a long day."

"Something's bothering you," John mused after studying Robert for a moment. "Is it something I can help with in any way?"

He shook his head, getting up and walking over to join John, leaning against the low brick wall. "No, this is something I have to figure out on my own."

"I'm here for you," John told him quietly, covering Robert's hand with his where it rested on the wall between them.

Robert turned his hand to clasp John's. "I know. Your presence alone is a comfort to me."

"I'm flattered." John raised their clasped hands to press a kiss to the back of Robert's.

Freeing his hand, Robert cupped John's cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Sighing, John returned the kiss.

*

"Benjamin--" Whatever Yves meant to say disappeared when he saw Ben's face. "Mon Dieu, what is it? What has happened?"

For several long minutes, Ben could only cling to Yves. If this wasn't a dream, he'd have left bruises. At long last, he pulled back so he could meet Yves' eyes. "Mr. Sackett is dead."

"Quoi?" Yves stared at Ben in shock. Of all the possibilities for Ben's tears, that wasn't one of them. "He was safe in camp, oui?"

His voice shaking and hitching, Ben explained about the elaborate deception Sutherland had managed to pull, with the unwitting help of a loyal patriot. "Now Mr. Sackett's dead and some of our papers have made it into André's hands. He knows we have a man named Culper spying in New York."

"He won't know that Culper is an alias," Yves assured Ben, rubbing his back soothingly. Those of the staff who even knew anything about the intelligence ring didn't know Culper's true identity. "He is safe."

Making a soft sound of distress in his throat, Ben clung to Yves once more. "I should have figured it out sooner. If I'd just thought to ask Shanks what they _both_ looked like."

"Mon cœur, thinking like that will keep you from doing your job properly," Yves told him sternly, easing Ben back so he could look into his eyes. "Oui, you made a mistake. Will you let something like this happen again?"

Setting his jaw, Ben shook his head. "Non. Something like this won't happen again."

"Très bien." Yves kissed him, soft and sweet. "Washington made you Head of Intelligence for a reason. Don't forget it."

Some of the tension eased from Ben's shoulders and he hugged Yves tightly. "Merci, mon amour. Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime aussi." Yves hugged Ben just as tightly.

*

"Mmm, I've missed this, mon cœur," Yves murmured as they cuddled together under the covers, a sweaty, sated tangle of limbs. Outside, they could hear the soldiers still celebrating the alliance with France. 

Ben sighed and snuggled closer, tucking his head further under Yves' chin, breathing in their combined scents happily. "Moi aussi, mon amour."

"Benjamin, why have we not visited Setauket in our dreams recently?" Yves asked before they could drift off to sleep.

Sighing again, Ben tightened his arms around Yves. _At least he waited to ask._ "I wondered if you were going to bring that up."

"Why don't you feel safe there anymore?" Yves' question told Ben that he'd been thinking about it for awhile before he'd asked.

He remained curled into Yves' arms, trying to avoid discussing the subject. "What makes you think I don't feel safe there?"

"I don't know what you're taught here, but in France, we're told that dreams usually take place where the dreamers feel safest." Yves gently stroked his fingers through Ben's hair, making him melt. "For me, that's Chateau Chavaniac. For you, that's Setauket. Until recently, anyway."

Ben remained silent for several minutes, trying to sort out his thoughts. Finally, quietly, he said, "When we went to Setauket to rescue my father and the others, it felt like something had been taken from me, seeing those redcoats there and fighting them. People I grew up with were afraid of us--of _me_. They considered us the enemy simply because we'd chosen to fight for freedom. It... hurt. I think... part of me hoped to keep my hometown safe from the war, but that day showed me how badly I'd failed. It's not the same anymore."

"Je suis très désolé." Yves hugged Ben even tighter and he gladly pressed closer to his lover. "I wondered if the battle had something to do with it. Perhaps, one day, it will be your safe place again. For now, you still have Chavaniac."

He only nodded in reply. _I pray that you don't lose that as your safe place, Yves._

*

"It's about time. What took you so-- Samuel!" Hercules' cheerful voice turned to worry when he finally got a good look at his 'mate. 

Smiling weakly, Samuel didn't protest when Hercules pulled him close. He leaned into his firm strength. "It's good to see you, too, Hercules."

"Don't joke, love. What happened?" Hercules gently tilted Samuel's head so he could look at his face properly.

Catching Hercules' hands in his, Samuel led him over to sit on the bank of the river. "The Queen's Rangers happened." As he told Hercules what happened, his 'mate kept one arm around his shoulders, holding him close. He sighed once he finished telling the story. "I'm glad Sarah is away visiting Sally right now. I don't want to think about what might have happened to her if she'd been here, too."

"Cato's still on his honeymoon, I can't get away right now." Hercules pressed his forehead against Samuel's temple, clearly frustrated. "I'll go over to Robert's boardin' house first thing in the mornin' and tell him."

Samuel sighed softly, relaxing into Hercules' embrace. "Thank you. It'll be nice to have someone else around besides the servants."

"As soon as I can, I will come see you, too." Hercules kissed his cheek.

Smiling, Samuel just took comfort in the feel of Hercules' arms around him.

*

Robert had just begun overseeing breakfast preparations when he heard someone knocking on the door of the boarding house. He assured himself that Mrs. Young had everything in hand and left to see who was at the door. He raised his eyebrows and stepped aside to let his visitor in. "Uncle Hercules. What brings you here at this time of the morning?" 

"Your father was attacked last night," Hercules told him, completely and utterly serious for once. "By the Queen's Rangers."

Robert listened with growing agitation as Hercules told him what he must have learned from Samuel himself. "What about my mother? Is she all right?"

"She's visitin' Sally," Hercules assured him with a grim smile. "It's just Samuel and the servants at the house."

Nodding, Robert took several deep breaths to keep his emotions under control. He wasn't going to break down where anyone could see. "I'll go stay with him for a few days."

"As soon as I can, I'll join you." Hercules sighed deeply, obviously frustrated. "With Cato on his honeymoon, I'm stuck here in town."

He nodded again, managing a sympathetic smile for the man who was as much a father to him as his own father. "I'm sure Father understands. Come when you can."

"I will." Hercules nodded firmly, his hands twitching at his sides with the desire to hug Robert.

Though Robert typically disliked showing affection in public, this was a unique case and no one else was about. So he stepped forward and hugged Hercules tight. "He's fine. He dreamed."

"I know." Hercules' voice was rough with emotion now. "Tell Samuel I love him."

Robert nodded, gently easing back from the hug. "I will. See you soon."

"See you soon." Hercules gave him a watery smile and left the boarding house.

For his part, Robert turned and headed back to the kitchen to speak with Mrs. Young and her husband. They would be in charge while he was gone.

*

"As long as the Ring is secret, it is secure," Ben assured Washington, standing tall and proud after that smile of approval from him. 

Washington nodded and, after a moment, said, "Forgive me, Lieutenant Brewster, but may I speak with Major Tallmadge in private?"

"Yes, sir, of course." Caleb glanced between the two of them, a little uncertain, and ducked out of the tent, leaving them alone.

Fidgeting, Ben wondered what else Washington could have to say to him. Unable to contain himself, he asked, "Sir? Is something else wrong?"

"Not with me, but with you and Gilbert," Washington replied, moving over to the decanted Madeira that Billy must have set out earlier. "Why else would he seek me out after the battle and not you?"

Ben pressed his lips together to stifle his reflexive response. It wouldn't do to talk back to the general, especially so soon after he'd proven the capability and value of the ring. The rumors about Washington and Yves napping together under a tree after the battle had spread like wildfire through the army. Ben himself had barely slept, not deeply enough to dream, so he'd yet to see Yves, waking or dreaming. After a few moments, he admitted quietly, "I'm not sure why Yves has decided to give me the cold shoulder, sir."

"It's been my experience in such cases, that one party has upset the other party somehow, usually without meaning to do so." Washington finished pouring the Madeira and handed one of the glasses to Ben.

Though he accepted the glass, he didn't drink, simply staring down at the Madeira within. "How do I find out what I did to upset him?"

"Every relationship benefits from good communication, Benjamin," Washington reminded him. "I suggest you _ask_ Gilbert rather than let this fester."

Sighing, Ben took a large drink of his Madeira. "You make a good point, sir. This is the first time we've had a difficulty like this."

"All the more reason to speak to him as soon as you can." Washington gently squeezed his shoulder with his free hand. "We would not have succeeded if not for Gilbert's efforts. Remind him of that, please."

Ben nodded just as Billy entered the tent once more. His eyes lingered on Washington's hand on Ben's shoulder, but he only said, "They're both secure, General."

"Thank you, Billy." Washington gave his valet a rare warm smile and returned to his seat. "You're dismissed, Major. Remember my advice."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Ben bowed slightly and left the tent in search of his 'mate.

He eventually found Yves in their tent, curled up on their camp bed, apparently asleep. Alex and John sat in the camp chairs, clearly waiting. Alex spoke first, his tone deliberately light, "Ben, I wondered when you'd show up."

"Hello, Alex, Jack." Ben fidgeted, wondering how quickly he could get them to leave so he could talk to Yves. "Um, how's Yves?"

The two aides glanced at each other, clearly debating what to say. After a moment, John told him, "He's upset about something, but he wouldn't tell us."

"Perhaps _you_ did something," Alex added, both eyebrows arched meaningfully. "Or didn't do something that you should have."

Ben nodded, stifling a yawn now that the thrill of doing his job well had faded. "Pardon me. I intend to find that out myself."

"We'll leave you to it, then." John stood up and practically manhandled Alex out of his chair as well. "Take good care of him, Ben."

He nodded, perching on the edge of the camp bed to tug off his boots. "I will, John. Thank you for keeping an eye on him."

"We'll know if you don't," Alex told Ben sternly even as John literally pushed him out of the tent ahead of him.

Chuckling as the tent flap fell shut behind them, Ben stood up again to tie the flaps closed. That done, he removed his cravat and shrugged out of his jacket and waistcoat. Yawning again, he slid under the covers with Yves, draping his arm across his waist. Pressing his nose to the back of his neck, Ben sighed and let sleep take him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself at Yves' chateau in France. Looking around, he didn't see Yves himself. As he began to walk through the forest, he called, "Yves?"

"Took you long enough," Yves called back, his voice coming from the right. "I worried when you didn't show up in our dream last night."

Wincing, Ben followed the sound of Yves' voice. "I didn't mean to worry you, Yves, but I had a lot to do and barely managed to doze."

"I didn't see you at all after the battle," Yves replied, his voice trembling a little. "And then, when you didn't dream..."

Turning in place, Ben frowned. "Where are you? This discussion will be easier if we can look at each other."

"You never look up, do you?" The tremble faded from Yves' voice.

Sighing, Ben looked up and spotted Yves perched in the branches of the tree. "I always forget. May I join you?"

"Mais oui." Yves leaned down and extended his hand to Ben.

He took it and used it to help himself climb up and join Yves. "I'm sorry I worried you, Yves. I fully intended to find you after the battle, but I received intelligence that I had to act on as quickly as possible."

"That doesn't explain why you asked to join General Lee's troops, but not mine." The moment the words were out, Yves looked away, his jaw tight.

Ben stifled a groan. _This must be the main reason for his pique._ "It wasn't a slight on you, Yves. One of my agents had sent information that Lee was a traitor months ago." When Yves opened his mouth to say something, Ben held up a hand to stop him. "Washington seemed to dismiss it out of hand and I tried to make him see that it was serious."

"He has been very cool towards you these last few months. Is that why?" Yves asked, scooting closer on the branch.

Wincing at the memory of the sting of Washington's dressing-down, Ben nodded. "Oui, it was. Then Billy told me that Washington gave Lee _your_ command after all and I _knew_ that if my agent's information was true, he was going to show his colors in this battle. So I asked to join his troops in order to do what I could to keep it from happening."

"His Excellency had Billy scout ahead and he told us you were confronting Lee without any backup," Yves told him quietly as Ben scooted closer on the branch. "He didn't show it, but I think he worried for you."

Ben smiled sheepishly as Yves closed the rest of the distance between them. "It wasn't my best decision, but I wasn't about to let Lee get away with a retreat after such a pathetic attempt at attacking the redcoats."

"It worked out in the end." Yves cupped Ben's cheek with his hand and Ben leaned into it, sliding his arms around Yves' waist. "Please try not to be so foolish in the future."

Breathing deeply as he finally relaxed, Ben rested his head on Yves' shoulder. "I'll do my best. I love you, Yves, and I don't intend to leave you anytime soon."

"I love you, too, Benjamin." Yves pressed a kiss to Ben's forehead. "Can you tell me about the intelligence you received?"

He tensed and pressed closer to Yves. "It'd be best if I didn't say anything. Rest assured that it has been handled."

"I trust you, mon cœur." He smiled when Yves brushed another kiss across his forehead. "Thank you for telling me what you can."

Ben nodded and started to shift back so he could look at Yves. He lost his balance, however, and fell out of the tree. Since it was a dream, he wasn't hurt by the fall except to have the wind knocked out of him. "Oof. This is why I don't climb trees."

"The ground is more comfortable for what I planned anyway." Yves dropped down from the branch with decidedly more grace than Ben had managed.

Chuckling, Ben wrapped his arms around Yves and pulled him down for a kiss. "I have a message for you from Washington."

"Oh?" Yves raised his eyebrows curiously, stretching out beside Ben. "What is it?"

Toying with the ribbon keeping Yves' hair in its queue, Ben told him, "We would not have succeeded if not for your efforts."

The bright smile that lit Yves' face took Ben's breath away. "He said something similar to me directly after the battle. It's nice to hear it again."

"I think it's his way of apologizing for taking your command from you." Ben nudged his forehead against Yves' with a fond smile.

Nudging his forehead in reply, Yves grinned. "Oui, I think so, too."

*

"How are you holding up?" Alex asked Ben quietly. "With Yves going back to France?" 

Ben sighed softly, rubbing his temples. "Not as bad as I feared, but not as well as I'd hoped."

"You know John and I are here for you, just like you and Yves were there for me while Jack was gone." Alex rested a hand on Ben's shoulder, his expression sympathetic.

He nodded, managing a small smile. In some ways, it was a relief that most of the headquarters staff knew about him and Yves being 'mates. "Merci, Alex."

"De rien, Ben." Alex smiled back and sat back in his chair.

Ben turned back to the reports he'd been going over. He found it difficult to focus, though, because Alex kept fidgeting. Worse than he usually did. Stifling a sigh, Ben glanced up at Alex again. "Do you have something on your mind?"

"You know I have a man of my own in York City," Hamilton told him, tossing his quill onto the desk. It was as if he'd been waiting for Ben to ask. "However, his usual courier married recently and won't be able to travel out of the city as often without it being suspicious."

Ben hummed thoughtfully. "I haven't asked for his name before because I respect the need for secrecy. If he's going to work with the ring, though, I should know his name. Maybe he knows my man already and doesn't know it."

"Hercules Mulligan," Hamilton told him quietly, fidgeting with the ring on his finger. "He was kind to me when I first came to America." He looked up to meet Ben's eyes. "Please keep him as safe as you can."

Nodding, Ben made a mental note of the name. "I will do my best. I can't promise more than that. It will take time, too."

"Of course, I understand."

*

"Abraham, welcome! Come on in." Samuel greeted the young man with a cheerful smile. 

After handing his horse over to the stable hand, Abraham followed Samuel into the house. "I needed to speak to you about--"

"Let me make introductions first," Samuel interrupted, leading Abraham into the sitting room where Robert and Hercules waited. "You know Robert, of course. This is Hercules Mulligan, my dream-mate. Hercules, this is Abraham Woodhull, a friend of ours from Setauket."

Standing up, Hercules offered his hand to Abraham. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Woodhull."

"A mutual pleasure, Mr. Mulligan," Abraham replied, shaking Hercules' hand. "It seems we have a common cause without knowing it."

As Abraham sat down, Robert poured a cup of tea for him. "If you mean that Uncle Hercules is spying for the Continental Army, yes, we already know."

"Is that why you resisted spying?" Abraham asked, accepting the cup from Samuel.

Robert didn't answer, taking a sip of his tea. Hercules spoke up to distract Abraham. "The largest difficulty is getting my information to my contact in the Army. I used to send my business partner, Cato. He married recently and it would raise suspicion for him to make so many trips now."

"I could do it," Samuel offered after a moment of silence. "I'm in and out of York City often enough for business. I could carry reports, too."

Amusingly, Robert and Hercules spoke at the same time, "No, it's too dangerous."

"I understand you're a tailor, Mr. Mulligan," Abraham spoke up before Samuel could respond. "Perhaps you can hide your reports in his clothes somehow. Then, when he gets home, he can remove them and put them in the dead drop for me. Or whoever's coming to pick up the report."

Samuel glanced at his son and 'mate, eyebrows raised, "If the two of you can risk yourselves for the cause, I can, too."

"Hmm, it _could_ work." Hercules looked thoughtful. "It's not like we've kept our relationship secret as it is. No one would think anythin' of you comin' to see me or Robert."

Robert set his teacup down and stood up to take a few paces away to hide the fact that his emotions were getting the better of him. Samuel stifled a sigh. "What about hiding reports?"

"That's the easiest part," Hercules replied with a wink. "For now..." he produced a folded piece of paper and handed it to Abraham. "Here is my latest report."

Turning back, Robert handed Abraham a similar folded paper, his emotions back under his control. "And here is mine."

"Thank you both," Abraham carefully tucked them into his jacket pocket. "I'll let 721 know that the problem is solved."

*

Settled in New York once more, John made his way to _Rivington's Corner_. He would have gladly visited Robert if he knew where his 'mate actually was. Finding time to search for him had proven quite difficult. Rivington's voice drew him from his thoughts. "Major André, welcome back to York City!" After shaking John's hand warmly, Rivington turned back towards the bar. "Townsend, a glass of Madeira for Major André." 

"Of course, Mr. Rivington." The dry, quiet voice stopped John for a moment as he walked to his usual seat. He knew that voice. It couldn't possibly be him. Could it?

Only once he'd reached his seat and settled into it did he look up to see a familiar man walking towards him, carrying a glass and a mug. John smiled warmly when Robert reached his table. "Well, this is quite the surprise."

"Rivington's boast that he plays host to all of the British officers seems well-founded," Robert answered dryly, setting the glass in front of John and taking the seat opposite him. "You look well."

Chuckling, John set his sketchbook on the table and took a sip of his Madeira. "I thought you wanted me to find you without any help?"

"Recent events made it clear to me that life is uncertain and I would regret it if something happened to you before we had a chance to meet face-to-face." Robert met John's eyes with a small smile.

Before John could compose his thoughts, Rivington bustled over. "I see my new partner has already introduced himself, Major."

"Indeed he has, Mr. Rivington." John nodded, glancing briefly at Robert. _Partner? Since when?_ "Congratulations to you both."

*

"Why do you always claim that my waistcoats need to be taken out?" Samuel asked, amused, once he and Hercules were alone in the fitting room. "Why not taken in?" 

Amused, Hercules poked Samuel's stomach with his finger as Samuel removed both his frock coat and waistcoat. "No one would believe it with this stomach of yours."

"We have an excellent cook at home, as you well know." Samuel took the waistcoat Hercules handed him and slipped it on. The precious report for him to pass on was sewn into the lining of the waistcoat. Once Samuel was home, Sarah would remove the report and put it in the dead drop for Abraham.

Hercules laughed as he helped Samuel into his frock coat. "I'm well aware, love. You're not the only one whose waistcoats need takin' out."

"Will you come visit soon?" Samuel asked, sobering a little as he turned to face Hercules once his frock coat was in place.

Nodding, Hercules cupped Samuel's cheek with one hand. "Of course. It'll be lovely to see the family again. I miss them."

"And they miss you." Samuel covered Hercules' hand with his and kissed the palm. "Just as I do. Dreams can only do so much, love."

Smiling tenderly, Hercules had just started to lean in to kiss Samuel properly when they heard the bell ring to announce the arrival of another customer. "Duty calls."

"Yes, it does," Samuel agreed with chuckle, reminded of Abraham. He leaned in to kiss Hercules, soft and sweet. "We'll continue this later." Chuckling, Hercules reluctantly stepped back and preceded Samuel from the fitting room. A British officer stood in the main area, talking with Cato and Robert. He was quite handsome, Samuel had to admit, for a member of the British Army. "Thank you for waiting for us, Robert."

"Not at all, Father, Uncle Hercules." Robert treated them to a rare warm smile, surprising both of them. He never called Hercules his uncle in front of strangers, let alone show his emotions like this. Before Samuel could wonder, Robert turned to the officer. "Major, I'm sure you know Mr. Mulligan. This is my father, Samuel Townsend of Oyster Bay. Father, this is Major John André."

André offered his hand to Samuel, his smile warm and genuine. "An honor and a pleasure, Mr. Townsend."

"Likewise, Major André." Samuel shook his hand in return, suspecting now who this man was. "I wish I could stay and chat, but I must be getting home." He turned and embraced Hercules, murmuring in his ear, "I love you."

Hercules returned the tight embrace, whispering, "Love you, too."

Then Samuel shook Cato's hand, and left the establishment with Robert. Only when they were in Samuel's carriage did he speak, "So Major André is your 'mate."

"Yes. We met a few days ago at _Rivington's_." Robert didn't bother pretending to look outside. "I wasn't sure how I'd feel when we finally met outside our dreams. It's... unsettling."

"Whatever choice you make about your relationship with him, we will support you." Samuel reached across the carriage to squeeze Robert's hand.

Robert turned his hand over to return the squeeze, managing a small smile. "Thank you, Father."

*

_Mulligan's 'mate is Robert's father. That's interesting._ John mused to himself as he watched Samuel and Robert leave Hercules' shop together. He turned back to the two remaining gentlemen. Cato spoke up before the silence could become awkward. "Major André is here for some new suits, Hercules." 

"I'm pleased to hear it, Major." Hercules smiled warmly, leading him over to a stool. "Let's take your measurements and discuss fabrics."

Only mildly protesting, John told him, "I highly doubt my measurements have changed since my last visit to your fine establishment."

"Nonsense. It's been quite a while since you went away to Philadelphia with the rest of the Army," Hercules scolded him, taking measurements with brisk efficiency. "Ah, look, you've gained a few inches around the middle."

John shook his head, amused. "Hardly. My waistcoats still button perfectly well." He wished Robert had stayed, but clearly he'd been there with his father. _I hoped we could talk some more._

"There's no gullin' you, is there, Major?" Hercules smiled cheerfully. Finished, he produced a notebook from his pocket and wrote down the measurements he'd taken. "Now, fabrics. What colors are you lookin' for, exactly?"

After a good hour of choosing fabrics and suits all while chatting about inconsequential matters, John emerged with a relieved sigh. He'd ordered three new suits and several shirts on top of those. "My uncle can talk your ear off if you let him."

"I didn't expect to see you, Robert," John replied, smiling as Robert fell into step with him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back to keep from reaching for him. He knew Robert was a very private man and abided by that, though he longed to take him in his arms and kiss him. "How much does your family know about me?"

"My mother and sisters know your name is John, you're from England and speak French, Italian, and German as well as English," Robert explained quietly. "Father and Uncle Hercules know that _you_ are my 'mate."

John nodded. He'd guessed that they had figured it out. They were close to Robert, after all. "I see. It must difficult for them, living apart from each other."

"They manage." Robert answered quietly. "Since I became Rivington's partner, they've been able to see each other a little more often."

He smiled sadly, thinking of his own parents. "My father's 'mate died serving in the Army. Mother's 'mate is her companion. They are happy."

"One of my neighbors lost his 'mate giving birth to their second child," Robert confided, his expression blank. "He's still grieving, two years later."

John longed to take Robert's hand and hold it tight. "I don't think you ever truly stop mourning for a lost 'mate."

"I agree." Much to John's surprise, he felt Robert's arm bump against his.

Glancing down, he carefully brushed their hands together. The next moment, Robert took his hand and clasped it tightly. "I would like to meet your family, Robert."

"I would like you to meet them, too, John." Though Robert's voice was as calm as if discussing the weather, John didn't miss the way he squeezed his hand, however slight.

They reluctantly parted ways a few blocks later. Robert to _Rivington's_ and John to a meeting with General Clinton.

*

Robert raised his eyebrows when he opened the door to his room to find John waiting for him. "That can't be one of the suits you ordered from Uncle Hercules. It's much too soon for him to have finished them." 

"No, this is a suit I already had." John chuckled, glancing down at himself. "May I come in?"

He stepped aside in silent reply, ignoring the way his heart beat faster at the thought of having John here in his room. Once John stepped past him, he closed the door behind him. Robert quickly swept his eyes over the room, but nothing incriminating stood out. "I'm afraid I don't have any refreshments to offer."

"I don't require any." John turned to face Robert, his smile warm and tender. "Just the pleasure of your company."

Making a soft sound in the back of his throat, Robert moved before he realized it, hugging John tightly. As John hugged him back, Robert pressed his face into the curve of John's throat and breathed in his scent. "Why do you put up with me?"

"I would hardly call it 'putting up with you'," John murmured, gently rubbing Robert's back. "I love you, Robert. 'Mate or not, I'm glad to be with you."

Robert slowly drew back, staring at John with wide eyes. They'd never spoken of love before. Most 'mates married each other, but Robert hadn't expected it. "I-- John, are you sure?"

"I don't want to share my life with anyone else, Robert," John told him, green-gold eyes intent. "I've known that for awhile now."

His breath hitched in his throat and part of Robert wanted to reply in kind, but the practical side of him balked at the idea of marrying the head of British intelligence while he was spying for Washington. "I'm flattered, truly, John, but I need more time."

"I understand." John smiled and kissed Robert's cheek. "Take all the time you need."

Robert's heart skipped several beats at the tenderness of the gesture. "Please promise me that you'll take great care not to get yourself killed."

"I promise, Robert. I want a long and happy life with you." John smiled tenderly and kissed Robert's other cheek. "May I kiss you?"

"No, I'll kiss you." So saying, Robert leaned in to kiss John, heated and hungry. John moaned and responded eagerly, winding his arms around Robert.

Several moments later, they parted to catch their breath. "I sincerely hope that you won't be sending me home alone after a kiss like that."

"If you do go home tonight, I'll be with you," Robert told him honestly. "I don't want to spend the night alone."

John smiled and kissed Robert again. Somehow, they found their way to the bed and tumbled onto it together. John laughed and Robert barely allowed himself a chuckle at their situation. John cupped Robert's cheek and brushed his thumb along it. "Have you experimented at all?"

"A little," Robert admitted, his cheeks growing warm. "And... I talked with Father. I know the theory, but I haven't actually done it myself."

Nodding, John smiled and kissed Robert's forehead. "I have experimented a bit myself. I wanted to know what I was doing should this ever come to pass."

"I see." Robert wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. John was a handsome man and probably hadn't lacked for offers to help him learn. He flinched when John pinched his arm. "Why did you do that?"

The stern expression didn't go well with the fondness in John's eyes. "You're thinking too much. I don't intend to share my bed with anyone else except you after tonight."

"You can read me as well as Mother," Robert observed, reaching up to toy with the little braid. At John's curious look, he explained, "I take after her in temperament."

A delighted smile lit John's face then, making Robert's breath hitch again. "I wondered if you would ever tell me about your family."

"I will tell you what I can and introduce you to them." Robert looped his arms around John's neck and drew him down on top of him. "For now, let's focus on this."

John hummed in the back of his throat and kissed Robert's neck. "An excellent idea."

*

Just as Robert finished preparing the board for a game of draughts, the door to _Rivington's_ opened and he cried out, "Is it morning already? Oh, my dear, when you enter my establishment, it's as if the sun has banished the darkness. Gentlemen, may I introduce Miss Philomena Cheer. If you have the time and coin, you really should see her play Hypolita at the John Street Theatre. What's the play?" 

" _She Would and She Would Not_." John stiffened when Rivington introduced the actress and half-turned in his chair to see her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, but he no longer felt a spark of desire for her.

Rivington gave her an adoring look that seemed almost to simper as he asked, "Yes, my dear, but would you?"

"Oh, for you, James, always." She glanced over towards John as Rivington kissed the back of her hand. On the way to a seat at a nearby table, she remarked, "New York is exciting again now that so many of our friends have returned to us from Philadelphia."

Robert noticed John's preoccupation and raised his eyebrows. "I fear I'm keeping you from a more engaging conversation."

"I've already had that conversation," John told him, meeting his eyes steadily. "I find this one much more interesting."

Though Robert took a sip of his coffee, John could see the small, pleased smile on his lips. "I'm flattered that you find me more interesting than an actress."

"Of everyone I know, _you_ are the most interesting," John told him, gazing intently at Robert.

Not quite hiding another pleased smile, Robert told him, "It's mutual, John."

"I hoped it was."

*

With Robert in his life as well as his dreams, John couldn't really imagine being happier. He'd met the rest of Robert's family and found them to be very lovely and welcoming. Well, Mrs. Townsend had to test him a little, but Robert had warned him that she would. _"Even though you're my 'mate, she wants to see for herself that you're right for me."_

Having grown up with Robert and knowing he took after her, John wasn't surprised. At the end of his first visit to Oyster Bay, Mrs. Townsend asked him to return sometime, with or without her son. John hadn't even needed Robert to explain that the invitation meant she accepted him. The rest of Robert's family seemed to accept him as well, much to John's pleasure. He hoped to eventually take Robert to England to meet his own family.

More than that, though, John just wanted to know if the two of them had some sort of future together. Robert was very reluctant to talk about it, though, beyond asking that John keep himself out of danger. If anyone else had asked John, he'd have brushed off their concern. However, it was all Robert asked of John and he couldn't deny him.

*

Robert watched from across the room as Miss Cheer excused herself from the group of officers she'd been sitting with and walked over to join John at his usual table, taking the seat that Robert usually occupied. He didn't consider himself possessive or jealous, but he didn't like the way he felt at the sight of the actress in what had become his usual spot when John visited _Rivington's_. Picking up two glasses and a pitcher of ale, he walked over in time to hear Miss Cheer say, "I've missed you, John. When I heard you'd be returning to New York, I couldn't wait to see you. But it seems a different man has returned in his place." 

"Not different, Miss Cheer," Robert informed her, setting the two glasses down and pouring ale into them. He glanced briefly at John, catching a slight nod. "He has simply found his dream-mate and I have found mine."

She looked between the two of them with surprise, no longer acting a part. "Dream-mates?"

"Yes, Philomena," John confirmed, meeting her gaze steadily. "I don't mean to be rude, but you are sitting in Robert's chair."

Offended, she stood up in a hurry, glaring at them. "Very well. I shan't impose myself any longer, Gentlemen."

"Miss Cheer." Robert gently caught her arm with his, keeping his voice quiet. "We value our privacy. Please do not tell anyone."

She glared at him, but he kept firm hold of her arm until she nodded. "Very well, Mr. Townsley. Who would believe it, anyway?"

"Thank you, Robert," John told him as he sat down in his usual chair, barely nudging his feet against John's under the table as he adjusted his position. "I made it clear to her at the start of our liaison that it wasn't serious, but I suppose she forgot while I was in Philadelphia."

Taking a sip of his ale, Robert hid a sting at the reminder that John had had other lovers. _We made no promises to each other. Just because **I** was content didn't mean he was._ "I hope she remembers now."

"You are the only lover I want now, Robert," John told him, leaning forward on the table. "And I can't see that changing in the future."

He managed a small smile, brushing his pinky finger against John's hand on the table. "I have only ever wanted one lover, John. I don't want any other."

*

As he drifted in the twilight of wakefulness between dreams and reality, Ben felt a cool hand press against his forehead. He sighed softly and tilted his head up, feeling the hand move to his cheek. Struggling to wake up, a pair of lips pressed against his forehead and he sighed softly, murmuring, "Yves." He frowned when the kisses trailed down his temple and cheek to his lips. It didn't feel right and Ben finally woke up enough to recognize Sarah Livingston. Gently, he pushed her away. "No." 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Brewster," she told him, sitting up and taking one of his hands in hers. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

Ben brought her hand up and kissed the back. "I barely know you and I have a 'mate."

"What's she like?" Sarah asked, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed by his hip.

He stifled a chuckle, realizing that she'd thought he said 'Eve' instead of 'Yves'. "He is a good man, younger than me by a few years."

"What sort of parents name their son 'Eve'?" Sarah wondered, looking puzzled.

Ben smiled fondly. "French parents. His name is spelled Y-V-E-S, not E-V-E."

"French is an odd language," she observed. Quietly, she asked, "Do you mind if I just sleep with you? I miss my husband."

After a few moments, he nodded. "I miss my 'mate, too. We can keep each other company."

"Thank you." Sarah stood up and disappeared behind a dressing screen of sorts. Ben shifted into a more comfortable position. When she reappeared, she wore a nightgown with a shawl draped over her shoulders.

She hesitated a moment before climbing into bed with him. After some adjustments, they found a position comfortable for both of them and Ben slowly drifted off to sleep.

*

After the Rangers left, Robert glimpsed the other members of the Ring leaving, disappearing into the woods. For a moment, Woodhull looked straight at him. Then Robert turned on his heel and re-entered the house. The Thanksgiving feast on the dining room table looked delicious, but he was too angry to sit and eat. Apparently, his parents and uncle were of similar mind because none of them were in the dining room, either. 

Intuition led him to the sitting room. His father sat in his usual spot on the settee, his hands clasped on the head of his cane. If Robert looked closely, he could see that Samuel's grip was unusually tight, most likely to keep his hands from trembling. His mother sat beside Samuel, one hand resting on his arm. She wasn't looking at anyone, though. She stared into the fire, her expression calm, but anger in her eyes. Hercules paced the room, his elegant dark blue suit and lace cravat a startling contrast to their plain Quaker attire.

Robert cleared his throat to announce his return and waited until they all looked at him to tell them, "I'm done with the Ring."

"You can't, Robert, you're needed more than ever." Hercules took a step towards Robert, who held up a hand to keep him from coming closer.

"They _tricked_ him into spying, Hercules," Sarah reminded him, her voice steely and calm.

"It's not just the fact that they tricked me," Robert added, not surprised at all that his mother agreed with his decision. "They hurt Father, too. In the name of recruiting me."

Hercules glared at Robert. "Because you were bein' stubborn!"

"Because my 'mate is a British officer," Robert retorted, his hands clenching into fists at the thought that he'd risked everything for a lie. "Every time I pass on information, I wonder if something I say will lead to John's death."

Samuel offered him a wan, sympathetic smile. Hercules looked stricken, moving to the settee to clasp Samuel's shoulder. Sarah stood up and walked over to hug Robert tightly. He returned the hug with gratitude. "I know you will do what you think is best for you and for John."

"God gave us the freedom to choose for a reason," Samuel finally spoke up, reaching up to cover Hercules' hand with his own. "None of us will try to dissuade you from this course."

Glad that his parents supported his decision, Robert looked at Hercules, who now had his lips pressed close together, his green eyes pleading. "If you wish to continue, Uncle Hercules, I won't try to talk you out of it. However, _I_ am done."

"Your place at _Rivington's Corner_ is invaluable," Hercules reminded him, his voice quietly passionate as he held tight to Samuel's hand. "Please, just think it over before you make your final decision."

Robert simply _looked_ at him. "I've made my decision, Uncle. Good night."

With that, he went upstairs to his childhood bedroom. He changed into his nightshirt with stiff, jerky movements. Then he climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. He only realized he'd drifted off to sleep when he noticed that a fire was burning in the fireplace that hadn't been there before. Rolling onto his side, he saw John seated in the chair beside the fireplace, wearing only his nightshirt. John smiled when he saw Robert looking at him. "Hello, Robert. I trust Thanksgiving dinner with your family was lovely?"

"It was... eventful." Robert propped himself up on one arm and held out his hand to John. "I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"If that's your wish." John stood up and joined Robert in the bed, kissing him softly. "I almost wish I could have come with you."

Rather than reply to the sentiment, Robert kissed John, hot and hungry. He whispered against his lips, "I need you, John."

"And I need you, Robert." John returned the kiss just as eagerly, easing Robert onto his back.

Robert gave himself up to the pleasure of John's kisses and caresses. Though he missed John's presence, he was grateful that John's duties had kept him in York City after all.

*

"Hercules, stop muttering. Robert's made his choice," Sarah told him sharply once Robert had gone upstairs. 

He stopped short, looking at her with some surprise. It'd been some time since she'd spoken to him like that. When she had his attention, she looked pointedly at Samuel. Hercules followed her glance and felt his heart clench in his chest. His 'mate stared straight ahead, his eyes wide and unseeing. "Oh, love."

Hercules sat down beside Samuel and gathered him into a hug. After a few moments, Samuel made a soft, wounded sound, and hugged Hercules back. "I keep remembering that night, seeing new details."

"Let's get you up to bed." Sarah stood up and tugged on Samuel's arm. "You'll feel better once you've had a chance to sleep on it."

Samuel stood up and the three of them headed upstairs together. Hercules and Sarah stayed on either side of Samuel because he was very unsteady on his feet, even with his cane. Though part of Hercules wanted to fuss over Samuel, he held back. When they reached the bedroom, Sarah gave Samuel's arm a squeeze before going into her dressing room, presumably to change for bed. Alone with Samuel, Hercules hugged him tight again. "All right?"

"No." Samuel pressed his face into the curve of Hercules' neck as he practically burrowed into Hercules' embrace. "I'm glad you're here, though."

He kissed Samuel's cheek. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"I know." Samuel kissed Hercules' cheek in return.

By the time they'd changed into their nightshirts, there was a tap on the door from Sarah's dressing room. Hercules hadn't climbed into bed yet and walked over to open the door for her. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her hair in a long braid over her shoulder. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Hercules. "Would you object to company tonight?"

"I won't, no, but I don't speak for Samuel." Hercules stepped back so Sarah could approach the bed where Samuel stared up at the ceiling. Most of the time, when Hercules visited, she left them to their privacy. There were exceptions to every rule, though, and tonight was one of those.

Samuel turned his head on the pillow and smiled faintly when he saw her. He extended his hand to Sarah. "Hello, dear."

"Oh, Samuel." She caught his hand and kissed the back. She removed her shawl and draped it over a nearby chair.

They climbed into the bed on either side of Samuel, pressing close to him. He sighed deeply, slowly relaxing. Hercules watched him worriedly, and then glanced over at Sarah. After a moment, she looked away from Samuel to meet Hercules' gaze. "I can't stop you from spying, but please don't try to talk Robert into changing his mind. It won't work."

"I remember now," Hercules admitted with a sheepish smile. He'd forgotten for a time that Robert would only dig his heels in if anyone tried to tell him he could or couldn't do something. "I'll leave him be."

She offered a small smile and covered his hand with hers. Smiling back, he clasped her hand gently. When he was very young and first realized how unusual his and Samuel's situation was, he'd wanted to resent Sarah for being married to his 'mate. Then he'd met her a year or two after arriving in America and she'd been so kind and understanding that he couldn't resent her. He knew some people had more than one dream-mate. If he could pick a third for him and Samuel, he would choose Sarah.

*

Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes with the tips of fingers. Now more than ever, he wished Yves was back from France. "Here I thought things couldn't be worse than cutting Abe from the Ring. Now there's no Ring at all." 

"I'm sorry, Tallboy," Caleb replied, fidgeting with his belt. "I didn't mean to show my face. I didn't want to risk the old man seein' me."

Ben waved him off, sighing. "I know, Caleb. We couldn't have known what was going on. It's not like we have any way of knowing what's going on in Setauket."

"Actually, we do," Anna corrected him, sitting up in her chair as if struck by lightning. "I don't know why it didn't occur to me before now."

Frowning, Ben shifted in his seat to look at her more fully. "What do you mean?"

"You know Abe and I are dream-mates." She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and Ben nodded. He'd always wondered why Abe married Mary instead of Anna, but could never find a way to ask that wasn't rude.

Caleb started from his seat. "Annie, that's brilliant."

"What?" Ben frowned, and then realization hit him. "Of course! Abe can keep you updated through your dreams." Ben didn't add that Yves had been doing exactly that while he was in France. "It doesn't solve the problem of Culper Junior leaving the Ring, but at least we can keep a better eye on Abe."

Anna nodded, looking pained. "Yes. It didn't occur to me before because Abe hasn't been sleeping lately. Or, if he does, it's not when I do, so I haven't seen him."

"I still need to go to Setauket. Abe's expectin' me to pick them up," Caleb stood up and adjusted his coat. "Hopefully, you'll get news from Annie before I get back."

Caleb leaned down and kissed Anna's cheek, patted Ben's shoulder, and left, whistling. Sitting back in his chair, Ben sighed deeply. "On the bright side, we still have our other man in New York, but I don't know how we'll get his reports now."

"He's a clever man, I'm sure, to have maintained his cover this long," Anna told Ben, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Ben nodded reluctantly. "I just have no idea how things could have gone as wrong as they have."

"I don't know, either, but Abe's changed, Ben." Anna's smile changed into a troubled frown. "He's not the same Abe he was when we were growing up."

He reached over and covered her hand with his, trying to offer comfort. "We've all changed, Anna. The things we've seen and done, they leave their mark on us."

"You make a good point." She turned her hand over to squeeze his in reply.

He sighed heavily. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this mess to Washington."

"I recommend getting it over and done with as soon as possible," she suggested, her manner turning brisk and no-nonsense.

Reluctantly, he shook his head. "I'd rather wait until I have Abe's account, so I can give him as full a report as I can manage."

"The longer you wait, the more difficult it will be," Anna stood up and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Just keep that in mind."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "I will. Thank you, Anna."

*

"Benjamin, what has happened?" Yves asked when Ben finally appeared in their dream. His 'mate still wore most of his clothes, even his boots. "You didn't even change for bed?" 

Looking lost and forlorn, Ben practically threw himself in Yves' arms, clinging to him. Worried, Yves nevertheless hugged him tight and gently stroked his back. Despite Yves' expectations, Ben didn't cry. Eventually, Ben gave a deep, shuddering breath. "I-- I went against Washington."

"Porquoi, mon cœur?" Yves asked, frowning as he thought back to what Ben had told him. "You mean the woman, Mrs. Livingston?"

Ben nodded, keeping his arms tight around Yves. "She-- I-- All I could offer to ensure her release was that she agree to spy for us on her neighbors. She refused, said she was willing to die for her beliefs, but not mine."

"I see why you respect her." Yves kissed Ben's forehead.

Grabbing Yves' hand, Ben pressed it to his cheek. "Lieutenant Randall was standing guard over her last night and there was an-- no, I can't lie about it. He assaulted her with the intent to rape her. She grabbed for his gun, he tried to take it away from her. As they struggled for it, the gun went off and hit him. By-- by the time I got there, he was dead. Sarah was backed into a corner and refused to let anyone near her."

"She killed a soldier." Yves kissed Ben's forehead again, still cupping his cheek. "His Excellency would not have liked that."

Ben shook his head and let out a ragged breath. "I have never seen him so angry. He refused to be lenient towards her any longer. She was an enemy combatant and should be punished as one."

"You did not agree." Yves could feel Ben shaking and held him tighter. "What did you do instead?"

Giving a hollow laugh, Ben said, "The only thing I could think of. I asked Anna to help me smuggle her out of camp. Before I left her with Anna, I told her I didn't want to see her face again."

"You did the right thing, mon cœur," Yves assured him, kissing his forehead once again.

"Well, the Ring is dead, I had nothing to lose." Ben pressed his face into Yves' chest and began to cry at last.

Yves simply held Ben, wishing he was back in America and could hold him in the waking world as well. _At least I'm on my way back to him._


	3. Coming Into Their Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ring continues to prove its value to General Washington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers the end of season three and the beginning of season four.

"I do not accept your resignation. We may have lost one man in New York, but we still have another and a woman as well." Washington gave Ben a significant look.

Ben sighed deeply. "She has no way of contacting us now that her son has joined her. He has not signaled us since my agents last spoke with him."

"Perhaps it is time you sent agents to speak with both of them, then," Washington suggested quietly, returning to his seat. "Dismissed, Major Tallmadge."

"Yes, sir." Ben sighed deeply and walked out of Washington's tent. He headed towards Sackett's cart, which Anna now used. He found her seated on the steps of the cart, mending an American flag. "What happened?"

She continued working as she answered his question. "The standard bearer was shot. They used the colors as a tourniquet."

"Where was this?" Ben frowned, realizing that he hadn't heard of the incident in question.

"Franklin township." Anna's reply was distracted as she carefully pulled the needle and thread through the flag. Then she looked up at him and must have seen something in his face. "Ben, are you all right?"

He sighed, his breath misting in the cold winter air. "Yes. I just hope it can be mended." After a pause, she returned her attention to mending the flag. Clearing his throat, Ben moved a few steps closer. "I-- I spoke with Washington about the Ring. And, well, he reminded me that we do still have two assets left to us in New York."

"Colonel Hamilton's friend and 355," she replied, looking up at him in surprise. He nodded. "I haven't heard from her since Akinbode took Cicero to join her. And we don't have any way to contact him."

Ben sighed deeply, wishing he didn't have to ask this of her. Anna was like the sister he'd never had and he knew this would be difficult for her. "Perhaps someone should go to Oyster Bay and see if we can make contact that way."

"So soon after they found out they'd been manipulated?" Anna asked skeptically. "You put too much stock in the forgiveness of Quakers. You didn't see Culper Junior's face when he told us he was done with the Ring."

He sat down on the step next to Anna. "He'd just found out what Culper and Caleb did. Perhaps he just needs time to cool off. Anyway, I was thinking more of his father."

"I can't go unless someone can take me across the Sound," Anna told him, still sewing away. "Caleb's still in Setauket. Culper didn't have the full story, but what he gathered is that the Rangers think _Caleb_ is Rogers and they're chasing _him_."

Ben frowned, confused. "Why would they think that?"

"Culper was only guessing. Maybe he'll more of the facts by tonight." Anna shrugged and tied off her thread. "There! What do you think?"

He stared at the flag for several moments. "I can hardly tell where you sewed it. Of course, I don't know much about sewing anyway."

"I can see the stitches, but I'm the one who did them." Anna carefully folded the flag. "If you want me to go to Oyster Bay, I'll either have to wait for Caleb or have someone else take me."

Ben shook his head. "No, Caleb's the only one I'd trust for something like this. Hopefully he'll return soon."

"Then we can only wait for now."

*

Robert tossed and turned in his bed, the sound of everyone at _Rivington's_ singing _Yankee Doodle_ and laughing afterwards keeping him awake. He knew there was a reason for Clinton's remark about celebrating later. _I said I was out of the Ring. They hurt Father, could have hurt Mother if she hadn't been visiting Sally._ He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. _I hesitated out of a desire to protect John, but has anything I've told them **really** hurt him? They are fighting for America's freedom. I can't fight with outward weapons, but I can use my eyes and ears._

That decided, Robert got up and dressed, stealing down to the basement. Not surprisingly, he found newspapers drying on lines strung across the room. He'd occasionally helped to print newspapers, so it was the work of barely a minute to print another copy of Saturday's Gazette. He carried it to the window to read the headline in the moonlight that spilled through: _Washington Trounced in Tryon Triumph. Rebels Massacred at Middlebrook_. Robert's heart sank once he'd read the words. He had to get the news to Washington.

Hurrying back upstairs, he tossed on his outerwear and scribbled a note for John to send later. He wouldn't have the time or energy to write it later. That done, he hurried downstairs and to the stables out back. Saddling his horse took precious time, especially in the cold night air. He was soon on his way to Setauket.

His head aching and eyes gritty with lack of sleep, Robert arrived in time to witness Simcoe in full rage. Woodhull spotted him in the crowd and made his way over, keeping his voice low as he asked what Robert was doing there. After a few barbed comments, Woodhull directed Robert to follow him to his farm after waiting a couple minutes.

Robert took the opportunity to give his horse water and some oats. Then he followed Woodhull as instructed. "Dear God, what is that smell."

A cleared throat drew his attention to Brewster. "Mornin'."

"What's he doing here?" Robert asked Woodhull as he dismounted his horse.

"Getting me out of town," Woodhull explained.

"Are we takin' him as well?" Brewster asked.

Tethering his horse to the wagon where Woodhull's was also tethered, Robert told him flatly, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Before Brewster could respond, Woodhull interjected, "Listen, listen, you came here for a reason, all right? We don't have time for old grudges."

"Just shut it," Brewster told Woodhull. Clearly, they'd been friends for a long time, to be able to dispense with niceties. Of course, Brewster wasn't really the sort for manners anyway. "The man has his rights. And we do have business to square, so..." He squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry what happened to your father. Abe's orders were as clear as day. He was not to be touched. So that's on me." Robert simply stared at Brewster, considering what he'd said and what it revealed about both Woodhull's and Brewster's intentions. "It should've never happened." When Robert remained silent, Brewster shifted his weight slightly and said, "You can knock me if you like to even things up."

Woodhull nudged Brewster, muttering, "Caleb."

"I'm serious." Brewster looked at his friend for a moment, and then back at Robert, tilting his chin up. "Eye for an eye."

"Caleb, he's a Quaker. He doesn't believe--"

Without a word, Robert struck, quick as a snake, punching Brewster so he'd have a black eye to match the one his father had sported. Brewster took it with a grunt and a muttered, "Jesus!" He gave Robert an admiring glance. "Knew I loved this bastard."

"All right, quiet." Woodhull turned to Robert, his hands on his hips. "Robert, you need to start talking. We thought you were out."

Stifling a sigh, he said, "I am, but this is bigger than me." He pulled out the newspaper he'd printed at Rivington's. The ink was smudged, but the headline was still legible. "This needs to get to Washington with haste." A little reluctantly, he addressed his next words to Brewster. "They know where your camp is. It's only a matter of time."

"Shite." Brewster stared down at the newspaper in Woodhull's hands.

Robert listened to their conversation in silence, waiting to see if his efforts had been in vain or not. "Look, this man had every reason to run, all right? But instead, he ran to us. 'Cause he's the only man who could. Now, if you don't get this to Washington, who will? If I don't stand up to Simcoe, who will?"

Brewster nodded and Robert's shoulders slumped. The information would get to Washington. Once he left, Robert turned to Woodhull. "I'm still out of the Ring. I don't speak for my father or Uncle Hercules."

"I understand." Woodhull cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I told Caleb to torch your father's barn. We just-- we needed a man in New York and I couldn't think of any other way to convince you." After a moment, he tilted his head up. "You can punch me, too, if you like."

Robert considered Woodhull for a few moments before punching him in the stomach. He stepped back as Woodhull doubled over, coughing and retching dryly. "Apology accepted. Good luck, Woodhull."

With that, he returned to his horse and set off for Oyster Bay. He'd just about make it before he'd be too tired to ride safely.

*

"What on earth?" Ben exclaimed, staring when Caleb rode up to him, a huge grin on his face despite the impressive shiner forming around his right eye. "Caleb?"

"Compliments of Culper..." Caleb informed him, pulling a newspaper out of his pocket and handing it to Ben. "Junior and Senior."

Ben snatched it out of Caleb's hand, frowning. "What? Where is he? Where's Abe?"

Still grinning, Caleb told him, "Setauket. Ring's not as dead as you thought."

Wondering what Caleb was getting at, Ben opened the newspaper. His heart nearly stopped when he read the headline. "Where did you get this?"

"I told ya, Culper Junior." Shrugging, Caleb dismounted his horse and started towards the stables with it. Ben walked along with him. "I didn't ask him for details. Figured I needed to get that to ya as soon as possible."

Ben gestured as Caleb handed his horse over to the stable hands. "You had time to get punched. Who did it?"

"Junior. I gave him a free shot for what happened to his father." Caleb rubbed ruefully at his cheek. "For a Quaker, he sure knows how to punch."

Nodding, Ben turned his attention back to the newspaper as they headed towards Washington's tent. "We'll have to move camp. That's not going to be easy in this weather."

"Can't help it. Not since they know we're here." Caleb shrugged, humming a few notes of a song. "Say, we know where Tryon's stationed at Stony Point, right?"

Humming the next few notes of the song, Ben nodded. "Right, so?"

"So, he's goin' to be comin' here with most of his men." Stopping, Caleb gave Ben an expectant look, his eyes glinting with mischief.

A grin slowly spread across Ben's face. "His garrison will be undermanned. We could sneak in and take them out while Tryon's on his way here."

"Exactly, Tallboy." Caleb nodded, grinning back. "Let's go tell Washington."

*

"It's a pity no one can know about this," Washington remarked as he burned the newspaper that had precipitated the rapid change in their location. "It would have made quite the memento."

Glancing at his notes, Ben told him, "Well, we have plenty of other mementos, sir. Eleven field pieces, among them seven cannons. Ninety-three men taken."

"Yes." Once the newspaper was black char, Washington tossed it into the empty wastepaper bin to burn itself out. "And we can exchange them for some of ours taken in Charleston."

As Washington sat down opposite him, Ben quickly told him, "Well, not before I have a chance to interrogate the officers. We must find out who gave away the location of our camp."

"You think it's one of our own?" Washington asked, looking surprised and stung by the idea.

Tilting his head slightly, Ben reminded him, "Well, they would never have committed so many men to the attack if it weren't."

Washington didn't say anything for a moment, just nodded slowly. After a few moments, he found his voice, "Very well. Just questioning. Nothing like what happened with Simcoe."

"Yes, sir." Ben felt his cheeks grow warm at the reminder. "Just questions."

After a brief silence, Washington asked, "Do you have news from Gilbert?"

"They should arrive in Boston soon," Ben told him, unable to keep a smile from forming. "He'll make the trip here as quickly as he can once they've landed."

Nodding, Washington told him, "I know the separation has been difficult for you both."

"We've managed and it won't be the last," Ben assured him. Clearing his throat. "May I be excused, sir? I have men to question."

"Dismissed, Major Tallmadge."

*

"Look at him, in his cups." Clinton muttered contemptuously, watching Tryon drown his sorrows. "We should never have sent the militia in place of the regulars. It's like sending boys to do men's work."

John shook his head, cracking a couple walnuts in his hand. "I beg to differ. The result wouldn't have been any different." He opened his hand and began picking out the nuts from among the pieces of shell. "They knew we were coming. We have a traitor in our ranks."

"Gentlemen." Rivington nodded respectfully to them as he approached and refilled their glasses. "Oh, Major, I have a letter for you."

He accepted the letter with a calm nod, though his heart skipped a beat when he recognized the handwriting. Glancing at Clinton, he asked, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Clinton waved his hand.

John opened the letter and quickly scanned the contents:

_Dear John,_

_By the time you receive this, you will likely be worried about me. I am alive and well. The events of Thanksgiving took more of a toll on my father than we'd originally thought. I've gone to spend a few days with him and Mother. Unfortunately, my sleep schedule will be rather sporadic until Father is better. I hope to see you in my dreams. If not then, I plan to return to York City by the end of the week unless something else happens. I hope you are well and less worried now. Until we see each other again._

_Yours,  
Robert_

He let out a shaky sigh once he finished reading, carefully folding it back up and tucking it into his jacket pocket. "Good news, I take it?"

"A friend had to leave town unexpectedly because his father was taken ill," John told him with a small smile. Robert insisted on discretion and John acquiesced because he didn't truly mind. In a way, it was kind of nice to keep Robert all to himself for now.

"I see." Clinton took a sip of his Madeira and leaned forward to speak in a lowered voice. "About this traitor. Do you have any idea who it could be?"

John shook his head reluctantly. "We've been rather free about discussing our plans in public. I recommend we start confining our discussions to private meetings." He looked over at Rivington, burning newspapers in the fireplace. "And, perhaps, not confide in civilians."

"James has little love for the rebels," Clinton told John with a shake of his head.

He shrugged slightly. "Perhaps, but _he_ has been rather free with his confidences. Unless we take steps to keep word from getting out, I won't be able to find the traitor in our midst."

"Very well. To help us catch this traitor."

*

"A Mrs. Strong and Lieutenant Brewster to see you, sir," Tzipporah informed Samuel, Sarah, and Hercules.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "If they're here to talk Robert into rejoining the Ring..."

"They may be here to talk about Hercules," Samuel suggested gently. He looked at Tzipporah. "Show them in."

She nodded and disappeared. A few moments later, the two in question entered the sitting room. Anna looked much the same as before. Caleb's right eye was surrounded by a rather magnificent bruise. Anna blinked when she noticed who sat beside Samuel. "Oh, this is a bit of luck, Mr. Mulligan, we planned to ask Mr. Townsend to send you a message."

"I have nothing to report, Mrs. Strong," Hercules told her regretfully. "My clients have become rather tight-lipped of late. It's possible they suspect a leak."

Anna nodded, though the glance she gave Caleb was more than a little worried. "We have another agent in New York, besides yourself and Culper Junior, actually. Major André's housekeeper, Abigail. She used to work for me in Setauket and has provided us with information in the past. However, we have lost contact with her since her son joined her."

"I can help there." Robert entered the room then, looking only slightly disheveled after a long nap. "I have visited André at his home. She knows me."

Caleb finally spoke up, "Thought you were out of the Ring?"

"I can at least facilitate your communications." Robert sat down in his usual chair and looked at Hercules. "I believe Cato knows Abigail, too?"

Nodding slowly, Hercules looked quite pleased. "Yes, he does. They apparently came from the same part of Africa at different times."

"Then, she should be able to give her reports to him and he can take them to Uncle Hercules or directly here." Robert shrugged slightly.

Sarah gave her son a Look. "You're assuming that your father will agree to play courier again."

"I will continue to play courier, Sarah," Samuel told her firmly, sitting up straight. "I'm quite recovered, Robert, Hercules. You can return to York City in the morning."

Hercules looked concerned, resting his hand on Samuel's arm. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure." Samuel leaned over to press his forehead against Hercules' for a moment, whispering, "I love you, but please stop fussing and cosseting."

He chuckled. "Yes, love."

"Father, you're embarrassing our guests," Robert remarked lightly.

Straightening up, Samuel looked over to see Anna looking everywhere but at him. The look he glimpsed in her eyes didn't seem to be embarrassment, though he couldn't imagine what else it could be. Caleb, however, was grinning. "You ain't see Bennyboy and his 'mate together. They can be sickenin' at times."

"Hush, Caleb." Anna nudged him with her elbow. "If that's everything, we should go now."

Samuel carefully stood up, swatting Hercules' hands when he 'helped' him stand up. "Thank you both for coming."

"Before I go." Caleb cleared his throat. "I already apologized to Robert." He gestured to his black eye. "I'd also like to tell the rest of you that I'm sorry for what I did to your barn and your animals." He met Samuel's eyes. "Especially for you bein' hurt, sir. Woody said you weren't to be hurt at all. That's my fault. Not his."

Sarah stood up and joined Samuel, slipping her arm through his. "You've already paid your dues thanks to Robert, so apology accepted. However, it better not happen again."

"There's no need for that, dear," Samuel told her gently, covering her hand with his and squeezing gently. He turned back to Caleb. "Apology accepted, Lieutenant Brewster. I do wonder who'll be picking up the reports. Mrs. Strong here said Abraham was being cut from the Ring, after all."

Anna cleared her throat, her smile looking a little forced. "It will still be Abe if he can make the trip from Setauket. If he can't, then Caleb will pick up the reports."

"It sounds like everything is well in hand." Hercules stood up and joined Samuel and Sarah. "Do give my regards to Major Tallmadge. I look forward to meeting him someday."

Shaking his head in fond amusement, Samuel gently disengaged himself from his wife and 'mate to walk with Anna and Caleb to the door. Outside, he told them quietly, "I wish you'd come up with a better means of convincing Robert, but he can be very stubborn."

"I really am sorry, Mr. Townsend," Caleb told him quietly. "You can have a free shot, too."

Samuel shook his head. "No, let Robert's punch stand for both of us. I hope we can get to know each other better once this war is over."

They each shook his hand and disappeared into the darkness. Sighing, Samuel returned to the sitting room to rejoin his family.

*

His heart beating quickly, Ben followed Alexander and John into the manor house. Normally, Ben preferred not to attend these parties, but it was in honor of Yves. He had returned to America and should arrive sometime soon. To distract himself from his anticipation, Ben watched Alexander and John. Holding hands, the two of them seemed to be searching the crowd for someone in particular. _Their mysterious 'mate that they rarely talk about?_

Before he could wonder further, a glad cry echoed through the room and Ben turned to see a young woman staring at Alexander and John, a bright smile lighting her face. She started towards them, and they towards her. The three of them all but crashed together into a tight hug in the middle of the room. After several moments, an older woman, apparently a relative of the younger one, approached and began talking to the three of them. Ben didn't see any more because a pair of hands covered his eyes from behind. "Bonjour, mon cœur."

"Bonjour, mon amour." Turning in place, Ben smiled happily when he looked up at Yves. "I've missed you."

"Moi aussi." Yves barely had time to say that before Ben tugged him down for a soft kiss. He wanted to deepen it, but he didn't dare in such a public place. When they parted, Yves gently stroked Ben's cheek. "Dreams aren't enough."

He smiled, catching Yves' hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "No, they aren't. When did you arrive?"

"Just in time to see Alex and Jack with that young lady. Who is she?" Yves gestured in the general direction of where they'd last seen their friends.

A young woman nearby who looked as if she could be the other young lady's sister, answered Yves' question. "That was Elizabeth Schuyler. I'm her sister, Angelica Church."

"A pleasure to meet you," Yves greeted the woman, bowing over her hand and kissing it. "I'm the Marquis de Lafayette and this is Major Benjamin Tallmadge."

Angelica smiled as Ben bowed over her hand as well. "The guest of honor. The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur. Who were those two gentlemen?"

"Two of General Washington's aides-de-camp," Ben informed her, clasping his hands behind his back. "Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton and Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens. They are dream-mates."

Glancing in the direction they'd gone, Angelica murmured as if to herself, "Alex and Jack. You finally found them, Eliza. I'm happy for you, little sister."

"Who was the older woman that spoke to them?" Yves asked politely. "Your mother?"

Angelica laughed lightly. "No, hardly. That was our aunt, Mrs. Gertrude Cochran. She's the reason we're here, to tell the truth."

"Yves! You're here!" Alexander squeezed through the crowd and pulled Yves into a hug. "Ah, of course you found Ben already."

Laughing, Yves kissed each of Alexander's cheeks in greeting. "It's good to see you again, my friend. Where is Jack?"

"We found our third, Yves." Alexander answered, still smiling brightly. "She's wonderful and-- oh, forgive me, madam."

He'd caught sight of Angelica and bowed to her. Smiling demurely, Angelica curtsied to him. Clearing his throat, Ben told him, "Alex, this is Angelica Church, sister to your dream-mate. Mrs. Church, this is Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton."

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Mrs. Church. Eliza's told Jack and I so much about you and the rest of your family over the years." Alexander took her offered hand and bowed over it.

She smiled demurely in reply. "She's told us quite a bit about you two as well. I'm glad you've finally found each other."

"Nous aussi," Alexander assured her, straightening up. "Will you come join us?"

Angelica nodded and took the arm he offered. "Of course. Lead the way."

"General Schuyler's daughter," Ben murmured to Yves. "No wonder they didn't say much about her to us."

Yves nodded his agreement. "Oui. I hope it works out for them."

"Moi aussi."

*

"Oh, Mr. Townsend," Abigail exclaimed quietly as he approached her and Cato in the garden at Cato's house. 

Smiling reassuringly, Cato nodded to Robert, saying something to Abigail in their language. She said something back, surprised. He nodded towards Robert again. "Ask him yourself if you don't believe me."

"Ask me what?" Robert inquired politely.

After a moment, Abigail said, "Cato tells me you're spying for the Continentals, like him and Mr. Mulligan. Is that true?"

"I was," Robert told her quietly. "Mrs. Strong and Lieutenant Brewster told us that you've been spying for them, too."

Cato nodded in confirmation. "They asked that we find a way to include any information you may have learned in our own reports."

"I didn't plan to keep spying," Abigail told them as they moved further away from the house. "I mainly did it to protect my boy."

Robert stifled a sigh. He could sympathize with her conflict. Cato nodded, his own smile sympathetic. "We understand, Abby, but you're working for the British Head of Intelligence. We can't ignore that."

"I know, and I've learned that one of the Continental generals is planning to defect." Abigail turned to face them.

His heart stopped at the news and Robert couldn't help asking, "Which one?"

"I thought you weren't spying anymore?" Cato asked him with arched eyebrows and a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Abigail gave Robert a sympathetic look. "You can't really stop once you've started." He could only nod. "As for your question, it's-- it's Arnold."

Cato muttered something in his native language that Robert understood to be similar to 'Good God' for Christians. He stared at Abigail. "Are you sure it's Arnold?"

"Very sure." Abigail nodded and produced a folded piece of paper. "I wrote it all down, in case I could get word to Anna."

Taking it, Cato glanced at Robert. "This can't wait, but you and Hercules just returned to the city. I'll have to play courier."

"Father said--" Robert began, only for Cato to interrupt him.

"He's still supposedly recovering from illness." He tucked the paper into his waistcoat. "It'll look suspicious if he comes to the city right now. Besides, they need to know as soon as possible."

Robert gripped Cato's arm firmly. "Be careful. Your connection to Admiral Sanders can only protect you so much."

"I know. Tell Hercules to send the emergency signal." Cato turned to Abigail and said something in their native language.

She responded in kind and squeezed his hand. "Be careful."

They walked with Cato back into his house and he saw them out. Robert and Abigail slowly walked along the street together, heading back towards the business district. Quietly, he told her, "I _had_ wondered about you."

"Is that why you became his lover?" Abigail asked him, her voice just as quiet.

He shook his head. "He's my dream-mate. It's been... difficult to keep that separate from spying."

"I understand." Abigail nodded and gestured to the marketplace. "I have shopping to do."

Robert nodded back. "Take care." He continued on to _Mulligan's Haberdashery_. He found only assistants in the front area. They nodded to him and continued with their work. Robert walked through to the back room.

Hercules looked up and raised his eyebrows when he saw Robert. "This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you'd be at _Rivington's_."

"I've just come from Cato. He's spoken with Abigail and she's already provided us with key intelligence," Robert informed Hercules. "He said you need to send the emergency signal."

All the blood seemed to drain from Hercules' face at that. "Good God, it's that bad?"

"Yes. Cato was already preparing to head to Oyster Bay when we left." Robert clasped his hands tightly behind his back.

After frowning a moment, Hercules sighed. "We've both only just returned. That makes sense. Come, Robert, I find I'm ready for an early lunch."

"And to perhaps order an advertisement in the _Royal Gazette_?" Robert asked, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as Hercules put on his frock coat.

Hercules laughed, clapping a hand on Robert's shoulder as they made their way from the shop and headed towards _Rivington's_. "Perhaps."

*

With some relief, Samuel drifted off to sleep. It'd been an anxious day and a half since Cato had arrived at the farm. He found himself at his fishing spot again. Hercules jumped up from where he'd been waiting on the bank. "Samuel! Did they get the report?" 

"Cato handed over the report to Lieutenant Brewster." Samuel assured Hercules with gentle smile. "He wouldn't tell us what it was."

Hercules gave a frustrated sigh. "Robert wouldn't tell me, either. He said it'd be best if fewer people knew."

"That was Cato's reasoning, too." Samuel shook his head with a fond smile, carefully sitting down on the grass. "I imagine we'll find out what it was once Washington acts on the news."

Nodding, Hercules sat down beside Samuel, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "I have a feelin' Robert's not goin' to stay out of the Ring for long."

"I think you're right, love," Samuel agreed with a nod of his own, leaning into Hercules' warmth. "It's the sort of thing that you can't really _stop_ doing once you've begun."

Sighing, Hercules kissed Samuel's cheek. "Now we can only wait."

*

"You are restless, mon cœur," Yves observed as he and Ben prepared for bed at West Point. "What is wrong?" 

Ben blinked, drawn from his thoughts and turned to Yves. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you, mon amour. What did you say?"

"Benjamin, something has been on your mind since we got here," Yves pointed out, sitting down beside him on the bed.

He sighed and rested his head on Yves' shoulder. "That note Arnold received shortly after our arrival. I wish I'd had a look at it before he burned it."

"This is our own camp. You can relax," Yves brushed a kiss across the top of Ben's head.

Ben didn't respond right away, wishing he could stop thinking about the fact that he'd yet to figure out how Clinton had learned they were camped at Middlebrook. "I feel vulnerable here for some reason. I don't like it."

"Perhaps I can distract you." Yves gently tilted Ben's head up to kiss him, sweet and tender. After the party where Alex and John finally met their Eliza, Yves and Ben had barely managed to restrain themselves until they got to their tent. They hadn't re-emerged until close to noon the following day. Alex and Caleb still teased them about it.

Now, though, Ben simply responded to the kiss with a fond smile. "I'm sure we'll both enjoy it."

As they drowsed together afterwards, they were startled to full alert by the sound of distant cannon fire. They waited tensely for several minutes. When no one shouted an alarm, Yves slowly relaxed. Ben couldn't quite do the same. Yves tugged him back down onto the bed. "Mon cœur, if it was an attack, we'd know by now."

"I don't like it," Ben muttered, letting Yves pull the covers over them.

Yves kissed his cheek. "Maybe you can do some looking around in the morning."

"That's a good idea." Ben kissed Yves' cheek in return and slowly drifted off to sleep.

*

"Bennyboy, where's Arnold?" Caleb demanded once Ben arrived back at West Point after failing to apprehend the general. 

He frowned at his friend. "When did you get here? I thought you were visiting your 'mates in Connecticut?"

"You haven't seen the _Royal Gazette_ lately, have you?" Caleb fell into step with Ben as they re-entered the house.

Washington, Alex, and Yves waited for him. "Major, what did you find?"

"The cannon fire we heard last night was Colonel Jameson scaring off a British ship that had sailed too close," Ben informed them. "This morning, a group of Skinners brought a man calling himself John Anderson to Colonel Jameson. He had a pass in Arnold's handwriting as well as a copy of the plans for West Point."

Alex and Yves both cursed in French at Ben's revelation. Behind him, he heard Caleb mutter, "Shite, he was goin' to hand over West Point."

"I already took the precaution of having John Anderson taken into custody by men I trust," Ben told them. "I attempted to capture Arnold, but he was too far down the Hudson for my shot to hit him. I did try, though."

Washington nodded and handed Ben an unfolded paper. "Lieutenant Brewster just brought this report to us from 355."

_That explains their lack of surprise at the fact that Arnold is a traitor._ Taking the report, Ben straightened it out and skimmed the contents. "Merde, he was the leak."

*

Nodding, to the aide who admitted him into General Clinton's office, John stepped past him into the room. A strange man sat opposite Clinton: tall and powerfully built, wearing a dark cloak over most of an Army uniform. Clinton nodded when he saw John. "Ah, thank you for coming, Major André. May I introduce you to your latest conquest, Brigadier General Benedict Arnold." 

"General." John inclined his head slightly and extended a hand. He didn't miss the flash of anger that swept across Arnold's face at the mention of his rank.

Arnold stood up and briefly shook John's hand. "Major. Good to meet the coward who sends others to take risks for him."

"You mistake caution for cowardice, General," John retorted calmly, noting the look on Clinton's face with some distaste. He was enjoying the situation far too much. "The idea of going into enemy territory and risking capture as an enemy spy didn't appeal to me."

Arnold scoffed. "War is full of risk, Major."

"Some risks are best left to others." John raised his eyebrows slightly. "I'm sure you're aware of that fact as a commander."

Clinton cleared his throat. "Major, since you recruited General Arnold, I leave it up to you to find him lodgings."

"I don't need lodgings, just a battalion to command." Arnold turned to address Clinton, his expression almost pathetically eager.

Clinton waved a dismissive hand. "You should know by now that these things take time, General. You're not in the rebel army anymore."

"Yes, sir." Arnold's voice was reluctant, but he acknowledged the implicit order.

John gestured to the door. "If you'll come with me, General?" Arnold glanced at Clinton, and then preceded John from the office. As they made their way through the building, John asked conversationally, "I take it your meeting didn't go to plan?"

"Tallmadge _knew_ somehow," Arnold grumbled and John caught a glimpse of balled fists under the cloak. "I was lucky to get away at all."

John raised his eyebrows. _That is worrying. I know Tallmadge is smart, but there must have been **something** that tipped him off._ "What about Mr. Anderson?"

"It's likely the Continentals-- Excuse me, the rebels have taken him prisoner by now." Arnold told him. "After they question him, they'll hang him."

Reluctantly, John nodded. "They'd be fools to do otherwise."

"I may have had my disagreements with him, but Washington is _not_ a fool," Arnold admitted quietly as they finally stepped out onto the street.

"We're well aware of that."

*

Robert mused that working for Rivington still left him cleaning and polishing tankards and glasses when there wasn't anything else to do. He glanced up from his work at the sound of the door opening. John entered and nodded to Robert slightly before glancing over his shoulder at the officer who followed him inside. A little taller than John, he had a broader, more muscular build. While John moved towards his usual corner, the stranger hesitated by the door. The murmurs from the officers and women made it quite clear that this was Benedict Arnold, even before he introduced himself to Rivington and commissioned a publication. 

After buying an advertisement so he could warn Major Tallmadge that Arnold intended to target the Ring, Robert walked over to join John in his corner. "Are you feeling better today?"

"I am." John nodded, smiling up at Robert as he set a glass of Madeira in front of him. "I shouldn't have let his words get to me, but they did."

"I've been called a coward myself," Robert admitted, sipping his coffee. He'd been surprised last night when John had expressed doubts about himself. Something Arnold had said to him had bothered John. Robert had done his best to reassure him and he was glad to see that he'd been successful. "For adhering to my Quaker upbringing."

John raised his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, you're technically only half Quaker."

"You only know that because you've met my mother," Robert reminded him, amused by John's observation as he rested his hand on the small table between them. "Most who meet me only see a Quaker."

Chuckling, John placed his hand on the table as well, close enough that he could brush his pinky finger across Robert's. "Those people are idiots who don't look past the surface. If I've learned anything from you, it's how to see past the obvious."

"I didn't realize I'd imparted anything to you," Robert commented, returning the subtle caress. _It must help him as Head of Intelligence._

John gave him a shadow of wink. "You've imparted quite a lot, Robert."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"I know."

*

"Hercules, what happened?" Samuel demanded the moment Hercules appeared in their dream. He wore one of his brighter suits, wrinkled and dirty. "Cato said you left to meet me for lunch this afternoon and--" 

His smile rueful, Hercules gently pressed his fingers to Samuel's lips. "I never showed up, no. Arnold has taken it upon himself to round up possible spies for the Continental Army."

"How does he know? What about Robert?" Samuel gripped Hercules' arms tightly, worried about the two men most important to him.

Hercules leaned forward to press his forehead against Samuel's. "Robert's fine. I don't think Arnold even knows who he is. As for knowin' that I'm a spy, he doesn't. He arrested me because of my past with the Sons of Liberty. It's not the first time this has happened, remember, love?"

"I know, but this has hit too close to home," Samuel wrapped his arms tightly around Hercules. "Please be careful."

His smile turning tender, Hercules lightly kissed Samuel. "I will. I love you, Samuel."

"I love you, too, Hercules."

*

"You said you would keep him safe," Alex practically snarled at Ben as they left Washington's office together, his brow knit in a scowl. 

Ben looked back at him sternly. "I said I would do my best. You told me yourself that this has happened before."

"That was André. He's a gentleman, by all accounts." Alex paused outside the office the aides used. Ben could see John seated at one of the desks, hard at work. "I don't trust Arnold."

He smiled ruefully. "I don't, either. However, Hercules has people who can speak for him in York City. They'll make sure he doesn't stay in Arnold's clutches for long."

"Putain. I hate when you talk sense like that." Alex's shoulders slumped and he blew out a breath. "The old man was right, though. Arnold won't stop with these first forty."

Ben nodded, worried about what that would mean for their agents in York City. "I know. I'd better come up with a plan to capture him soon, then."

"Good luck." Alex patted Ben's shoulder before going into the office to join John.

He watched as John greeted his 'mate with a smile and a quick kiss. Wishing Yves was back from reviewing troops, Ben left the building and headed to his tent. He had to figure out how to sneak agents into the city to kidnap a British general.

*

Robert escaped upstairs after his 'interview' with Arnold, desperate to get away from Simcoe's intent gaze and the questions that hit far too close to the mark. He'd hated having to mention, even indirectly, Hercules' past patriotism. However, there was a chance that Arnold would be more thorough than expected. Still, he'd done his best to direct suspicion away from his uncle. 

Leaning back against his door after closing it behind, Robert gulped in air. Suddenly, his cravat, tied so carefully this morning, felt too tight. He tugged it free and let it drop to the floor. As he stood there, gasping for air, his eyes landed on his little desk and the pigeonhole where he kept his invisible ink. _Who knows how thorough Arnold will be? Will he go from suspecting a man who visits a few times a week to suspecting one who works here?_

Unable to stand the thought of the potential discovery of such suspicious inks, Robert dug them out and moved to the fireplace. As they burned, he braced himself on the mantelpiece. He longed to do more than this, more than watching and reporting and hoping. Frustrated with the situation, he snatched up one of the candlesticks with its candle and threw it across the room at his desk. For a long, silent moment, he stared around the sparse little room that had been his home for the past few years.

Finally, he sank down into the chair that faced the fireplace and let himself cry. Just this once, he indulged himself in self-pity. When his tears had run their course, he washed his face and cleaned up the mess he'd made. Once the room was presentable, he retied his cravat and redid his queue. Satisfied that he was also presentable, Robert headed back downstairs. Before he returned to his work, he sent off a man with a note for John.

*

Though John was relieved that his caution had kept him from the hangman's noose, it did lead to Arnold deciding to 'help' him do his job by arresting potential spies. Most of the people he'd arrested John had already cleared of suspicion years earlier. Seated in the main office of Bridewell, John spoke with each man Arnold had arrested, apologizing for the general's zeal. _I'm beginning to think that recruiting him wasn't the best idea._

"Ah, Major, it's good to see you," Hercules greeted him cheerfully despite the dirt smudged on his face and clothes.

"Mr. Mulligan, I do apologize for General Arnold." John hid a grimace, well aware of the distress that Hercules' arrest had caused for both Samuel and Robert. "Though, I wouldn't have known about these arrests of his if not for Robert."

"I did wonder how you found out," Hercules rubbed idly at a smudge on his chin. "Arnold wasn't exactly subtle about things."

John shook his head as he finished with the paperwork that would clear Hercules of further suspicion. "Not with your arrest, no, but he was subtler about other arrests."

"Can a man such as him be subtle?" Hercules wondered with a wry tilt to his mouth.

Reluctantly, John chuckled. He finished his work and handed the paper to Hercules. "This should prevent further arrests. Once again, I apologize that this happened to you."

"I accept your apology, Major. Thank you for takin' care of this so promptly." Hercules accepted the paper, and then extended his hand. After a moment of surprise, John shook it. "Take care, Major."

"You, too, Mr. Mulligan."

*

"I can tell that you're happy, John," Philomena told him as they talked at Kennedy House. 

He chuckled, pleased to have her friendship now that she'd accepted that they wouldn't be resuming their earlier relationship. "Yes, I am. I hope you find the same happiness."

"I'm quite content--" Philomena told him, her voice trailing off as she glanced around the room.

John followed her glance and tensed when he noticed Peggy Arnold (formerly Shippen), talking with a friend of hers, Becky Franks, who'd moved from Philadelphia to New York with the British Army. As he watched, Peggy looked around the room and nodded slightly when her glance landed on him. After he nodded back, she looked at Philomena and John saw surprise flash across her face before she managed to compose herself. Peggy said something to Becky and they walked over towards John and Philomena. Becky smiled warmly at them, "Major André, I'm sure you remember Peggy Arnold."

"Indeed, I do, Miss Franks." John assured her, taking Peggy's hand and bowing over it. "Though her last name was Shippen when we last saw each other. My congratulations on your marriage, Mrs. Arnold."

Peggy smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Major André." She glanced at Philomena. "May I meet your friend here?"

"Of course. This is Miss Philomena Cheer, a good friend," John told Peggy, smiling, and then turned to Philomena. "Miss Cheer, this is Mrs. Margaret Arnold, a friend I met in Philadelphia."

Peggy offered her hand to Philomena. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Cheer. I look forward to seeing you perform."

"Will your husband allow it?" Philomena asked, taking Peggy's hand and squeezing it firmly.

Becky interjected then, "If General Arnold isn't interested in going to the theatre, Peggy is welcome to come with me and Freddy."

"Did someone take my name in vain?" Freddy Morgan asked, walking over to join them. Becky whispered something to him and he nodded. "Ah, of course, we'd be happy to bring Peggy to see Miss Cheer perform if General Arnold is too busy."

After a few more moments of conversation, Arnold walked over to claim Peggy. "It's time to go home. We're done here."

"Of course, my dear." Peggy smiled at her husband, and half-turned towards Philomena. "Before we go, I'd like you to meet Miss Philomena Cheer."

Arnold bowed slightly to Philomena. "We've met. Good night, Miss Cheer, Major André."

"Good night, General." John offered him a respectful bow. Once the others had left, John asked quietly, "Are you all right, Philomena?"

She looked up at him, her eyes troubled, "I just met my dream-mate, John."

"Who-- Peggy is your dream-mate?" John asked, surprised by the revelation.

Philomena nodded, looking in the direction that Peggy and Arnold had gone. "Yes. I knew she was coming to York City, but I didn't expect to see her quite so soon."

"I will help you two as much as I can," John told her quietly. He had a feeling Arnold wouldn't make things easy for Peggy and Philomena.

"Thank you, John."

*

"Mon cœur, I've-- What is wrong?" Yves' smile when Ben entered their tent faded when he saw the desperate and angry look on his face. "Has something happened?" 

Stepping forward, Ben hugged Yves tight. He hugged him back, pressing his face into Ben's hair and breathing in his scent. After several silent moments, Ben told him, "Arnold has Caleb."

"Quoi? Comment pouvait-il savoir?" Shocked, Yves stared down at Ben.

His 'mate shook his head. "Je ne sais pas. Maybe he remembered that Caleb and I work closely together." Ben moved back so he could look up at Yves, a wry smile on his lips. "Some of the men think he and I are 'mates."

"You know I am not jealous of your relationship with him." Smiling, Yves kissed Ben's forehead. "Does His Excellency know?"

Ben's smile faded, replaced by a scowl. "Oui, and he asked me for a full report on our remaining assets by morning. Does he expect me to _fly_ to York City?"

"Shh, mon cœur." Yves hugged Ben once again. "I don't think he expects you to go to York City, but to Setauket, oui."

Sighing, Ben slumped into Yves' embrace. "And I had plans for us for when you got back."

"If I have anything to say about it, we'll have the rest of our lives together." Yves smiled, pleased and flattered. "For now, we both have work to do."

Ben straightened up and tugged Yves' head down to his for a hungry kiss. When they parted, Ben had a wicked smile on his face. "That's a promise, mon amour."

"I fully intend to collect on that promise." Yves kissed him, light and swift. "Now go."

Chuckling, Ben began to change out of his uniform. Much as Yves would have liked to stay and admire his 'mate, he made himself leave the tent and go to headquarters.

*

"Colonel Cooke is here to see you, sir," Abigail informed John reluctantly. He and Robert finally had an afternoon to themselves after weeks of planning and negotiating. Whatever Cooke's reason for being there, it had to be important. 

Sighing, John stood up and picked up his coat from where he'd draped it over a nearby chair. "I'm sorry, Robert. The Colonel is not someone I can ignore."

"I understand, John." Robert stood up and helped tug John's coat into place. "I'll wait here for you."

John smiled and softly kissed Robert. "I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, he headed downstairs to find Colonel Cooke pacing in the sitting room, fidgeting with his tricorne. "Colonel, what can I do for you?"

"Who is Caleb Brewster?" Cooke demanded, turning to face John, his plump cheeks nearly as red as his coat.

Puzzled, John frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"It seems Arnold has gone behind your back again." Cooke relaxed only a little. "This Brewster was captured smuggling goods on the London Trade."

John sighed deeply, shaking his head. _He really is more trouble than he's worth now._ "I take it Brewster has friends?"

"Yes, and those friends have captured friends of mine. And the Crown." Cooke added the last part as if an afterthought. John knew quite well that Cooke used his contacts amongst the Loyalists to fill his pockets as much as to supply the British Army. "Richard Woodhull of Setauket and his son. They want Brewster back and cash to boot. Five hundred pounds."

Though John had moved to pour Madeira, he stopped then. _I think I know why Arnold focused on this Brewster. He must be one of Tallmadge's people, but Cooke won't care. He just wants Woodhull back so he can keep filling his pockets. Dammit, Arnold!_

"Do you have any idea where Arnold could have stashed Brewster?" Cooke asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

Stifling a groan at the fact that his afternoon with Robert was well and truly ruined, John only told him, "Knowing Arnold, he had Brewster taken to Bridewell."

"Why in God's name dump him there?" Cooke wondered, going pale now.

John shook his head. "I have my suspicions, Colonel. Abigail!"

"Yes, sir?" She appeared quickly.

"My cloak and hat. Something's come up," John told her, biting back an additional message for her to give to Robert.

Abigail nodded, glancing briefly at Cooke. "Yes, sir."

"I do apologize that this has happened, Colonel," John told him as they moved towards the front door. "I hope you'll convey my apologies to the magistrate and his son when you see them."

Cooke waited while Abigail handed John his things. "First we have to make sure that this Brewster is still alive in that godforsaken place."

"Indeed." John opened the door and gestured for Cooke to precede him from the house. He turned back for a moment, "Abigail--"

She held up a hand to stop him. "I'll convey your apologies to any visitors you may have while you're out, sir."

"Thank you." He glanced up the stairs and caught a glimpse of Robert before forcing himself to turn and leave.

*

Once the door closed behind John, Robert turned to Abigail as she climbed the stairs to join him, stricken. "How could Arnold have known? Does this mean we're in danger?" 

"I couldn't say." Abigail shrugged, looking troubled. "Ben and Caleb were always close, growing up in Setauket. A lot of people thought _they_ were 'mates. Maybe Arnold noticed that closeness when he knew them in the Army."

Robert felt his hands start to shake and quickly clenched them into fists. "You know him better than me. Would he give up the Ring?"

"No, not Caleb." Abigail shook her head quickly. "He's loyal to his friends and his family. He won't say anything, no matter what they do to him."

He slowly nodded, letting out the breath he'd been holding. That was the impression he'd received as well. "It seems our plans are well and truly spoiled, so I'll go visit some friends. Please tell John."

"I will, sir." Abigail followed him down to the servants' entrance and handed him his cloak and hat before opening the door for him. "Have a good afternoon and evening."

Robert made sure no one was about before stepping outside. "You, too, Miss Abigail." With that, he made his way to the main street and headed off to see Hercules.

*

Cooke set off the moment John joined him. "This situation with Brewster is indicative of an entirely different problem." 

"What do you mean?" John asked, tugging his cloak tighter around himself.

Keeping pace with John despite his shorter stature, Cooke told him, "Arnold. He's been more of a handful than any of us expected."

"He _was_ supposed to bring us West Point," John reminded him quietly. He had yet to sniff out the rebels' spy in York City and Arnold's efforts only made things more difficult for John. "And now we're stuck with him."

Cooke gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Clinton had confided to John that Washington had offered to exchange the man in his custody for Arnold. Standard procedure had kept Clinton from accepting the offer. If they exchanged a defector, it would discourage anyone else who might be considering it. "What are we to do with a man such as him?"

"He is a soldier, Colonel." This was a question that John had been considering himself. "Give him a command and he'll stop meddling in matters that don't concern him at all."

They walked in silence for several minutes. Finally, Cooke asked, "Do you think that will work, Major? Giving him what he wants?"

"Clearly, withholding it from him is only causing _us_ problems." John glanced at Cooke with a wry smile. "I'd rather he caused problems for the rebels than us."

Nodding, Cooke offered a smile of his own. "Well, when you put it like _that_ , I see the merit of your suggestion."

*

Once Robert told them what he'd learned, Hercules gave an offended sigh. "Well, I like that. They didn't do anythin' to rescue _me_ from Arnold's custody." 

"We didn't give them _time_ to do it, love," Samuel reminded his 'mate mildly, amused by his playacting. "Thanks to Robert, you were out of Bridewell before it became a matter of concern."

Setting his cup down on its saucer, Robert added, "Besides, when you think about it, the Ring _did_ save you from Arnold. I just didn't wait for instructions."

"No, you didn't, and I'm very glad for it, Robert." Hercules smiled warmly at his adopted nephew. "Even if you had, it probably would have been somethin' along the lines of 'what are you waitin' for? Get him out of there!'"

Robert nodded, setting his cup and saucer down on the table. "That's exactly why I didn't bother consulting them. I knew what their answer would be, so it would have been a waste of time."

"I'm very glad you're on our side, Robert." Hercules positively beamed at Robert, who only smiled quietly in response.

Samuel smiled as he watched the two of them. He'd worried, years ago, about how his son would react to the fact that his Uncle Hercules was his father's 'mate. He should have known that Robert would be as pragmatic about the situation as Sarah. He was very much like her, after all. Now, he was merely happy to see the two of them getting along so well.

*

"There are times I wish I was just another soldier in the army," Ben told Yves when the latter entered their tent at the end of the day. 

Yves gathered Ben into a tight hug, gently swaying from side to side. "I am sorry, mon cœur. I wish things had gone better for you."

"That makes two of us," Ben muttered, resting his cheek against Yves' cravat. "Culper hasn't left the Ring at least."

Yves smiled slightly, gently rubbing Ben's back. "I noticed you going in and out of the barn quite a bit. Was he there?"

"Oui, but please don't tell anyone." Ben nodded, not yet looking at Yves. "Can we talk about something else?"

Nodding, Yves kissed the top of Ben's head. "We've received letters from Oncle Nathaniel. He's doing well and he's worried about both of us."

"I'm sure he is." Finally, Ben pulled back enough to look up at Yves, a small smile on his lips. "I don't know what I'll say to him."

Yves smiled and kissed him softly. "Sleep on it, mon cœur. You look horrible."

"You still love me, though." Ben kissed him back, only to yawn the next moment.

Amused, Yves began helping him prepare for bed. "Oui, toujours."

"Toujours," Ben agreed with another yawn.

In short order, Yves helped him lay down and watched as Ben drifted off to sleep. Yves then sat down at his desk to finish a few things before joining his 'mate in slumber.

*

"I do not need my quartermaster coming to me with complaints of dead friends." Clinton told John sternly once he'd arrived to speak with him. "This local magistrate, 'Woodhole,' has been killed, and Colonel Cooke is distraught." 

John stifled a sigh. Clinton still held him responsible for Arnold and he was getting tired of it. "According to Arnold, there were no bodies recovered. The report came from one of the privateers he sent to make the exchange."

" _He_ sent?" Clinton raised his eyebrows at John. "You didn't handle it?"

Keeping his voice level with effort, John told him, "Arnold insisted, said it was his fault that Woodhull and his son were taken captive and therefore he should be the one to make it right."

"He is not here and you are." Clinton didn't back down, not that John had expected him to do so. "I demand an explanation for what happened up there."

Nodding slightly, John told him, "From what Arnold's privateer told him, it would seem that these marauders sought the five hundred pounds that Colonel Cooke arranged for the ransom. Perhaps someone in his department is responsible for them knowing about it."

"Perhaps he should have sent soldiers to handle the exchange," Clinton muttered, turning to pace towards his desk. "Using privateers just asks for trouble."

Hiding a triumphant smile, John asked him, "What soldiers would Arnold have sent? Neither you nor Cooke have allowed him to raise the legion that you promised him."

"I don't trust him." Clinton turned back to John, his expression hard. "No one does."

John nodded his agreement. "Nor do I, but he's only caused trouble for us since he defected. I'd say it's well past time we unleashed him on the rebels to cause trouble for _them_."

"I'll keep your suggestion in mind, Major. Dismissed."

*

"You appear to be in a better mood than you have been of late," Robert observed to John as they played draughts. 

John smiled, capturing one of Robert's pieces. "I am, yes. You've probably gathered that General Arnold has been a bit of a thorn in my side."

"Not at all," Robert answered dryly, capturing two of John's pieces in return. "He does tend to sit by himself when he comes in at all."

Nodding, John moved a piece to keep Robert from capturing more of his. "That doesn't surprise me. A man like him is not well-suited to endearing himself to my fellow officers."

"Or to you." He raised his eyebrows at John, who only nodded slightly.

The door opened and Rivington's voice rang out across the room, "Ah, General Spy-catcher!"

"Mr. Rivington, I should very much like to purchase an advertisement and a round for all your patrons." Arnold looked to be in much better spirits for once. "In celebration of His Majesty's newest regiment: The Loyal American Legion, which it is my pleasure to command."

Rivington nodded, glancing around the room. "Oh, that is good news! Hughes, quick, fetch everyone a round of, um, Madeira?"

"Ale," Arnold answered the implied question.

Nodding again, Rivington told Hughes, "Ale. Quick, now."

Robert listened quietly as Arnold and Rivington talked further about both the advertisement and the events in Connecticut. He only knew what he'd overheard John and Arnold discuss when one of the privateers Arnold had sent reported to them. After Arnold left, Robert looked at John for a long moment. "This Legion is _your_ idea."

"I'm tired of cleaning up his messes as he tries to help me do my job," John told Robert quietly.

Robert captured several of John's pieces and landed on the other side of the board. "King me. How very pragmatic of you."

"I have better things to do." John gave him a significant look.

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling at the insinuation. "That makes two of us."


	4. And the War is Won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ring does their part to help win the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers the rest of season four and some of the events directly after the war.

"Excuse me, Major André?" Abigail's uncertain voice distracted him from reviewing his notes about the rebel spies.

Setting them down, he turned in his chair to see her standing in the doorway to his office, looking worried. "Yes, Abigail?"

"I haven't seen Cicero in several days," she told him, her hands clasped in front of her. "Did you send him somewhere?"

John hid a wince at her question. He'd been waiting for her to ask. "He's working for General Arnold as his valet."

"What?!" Abigail exclaimed, looking shocked. "He's too young!"

He shrugged and shifted into a more comfortable position. "He's technically old enough and I only know because I've seen him at Arnold's home."

"Why didn't he _tell_ me?" Abigail wondered, wringing her hands together.

Standing up, John walked over and took her hands in his. "I asked him, too. He told me that he knew you'd try to stop him if you knew. He wanted to make his own way in the world and not be a burden to either of us."

"I guess I should be glad he didn't join the Army like his--" she stopped short, tears glinting in her eyes.

John squeezed her hands gently before letting them go. "My mother didn't like sending me off to the Army, either, but it was the best way I could think of to find Robert."

"Is he your dream-mate, sir?" she asked almost tentatively.

He nodded, returning to his desk. "He is. I don't know what we'll do after the war, regardless of the outcome."

"He might surprise you." Abigail tilted her head inquiringly. "Is there anything you need?"

John shook his head as he resumed his seat. "Not at the moment."

"Very well, sir." She turned to leave.

Just before she left the room, he asked, "Have you touched my papers recently? I'm missing a page of my notes."

"Of course not." She shook her head. "You told me to leave them alone."

"So I did." He sighed, puzzled by the conundrum. "Thank you, Abigail."

*

Excusing himself from the others on the pretext of getting another drink, John gracefully wove his way through the crowd of guests at Kennedy House. A flash of black caught his attention and he turned his head to see Robert of all people talking with a man in uniform. _What brings him here? He's not really one for parties, Quaker or not._ "Mr. Townsend, this is a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

"Major André." Robert turned to John, his eyes smiling even if his lips didn't. "I came to convey my partner's regrets to Colonel Cooke and the young lady who was asking after him. Rivington's wife and 'mate has just returned from the country."

John nodded, amused. "Of course. I heard something to that effect myself. Who is--" he stopped in the midst of his question because he recognized the man in the American Legion uniform. "Mr. Woodhull, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you remember me, Major André." Woodhull shook John's hand, his posture as stiff as a post.

Smiling, John told him, "I have an excellent memory." Catching the curious expression on Robert's face, he explained, "Colonel Cooke introduced Mr. Woodhull to me when he came to York City for his father, before you and I met." His smile faded as his own words reminded him of the prisoner exchange. "Ah, please accept my condolences on the death of your father."

"Thank you, but his death is why I'm here." Woodhull explained, tugging at the lapel of his coat. "The rebels killed him and I want to pay them back for it."

Tilting his head slightly, John remarked, "That's not a very Christian sentiment."

"I never was a good Christian anyway, Major." Woodhull nodded to the two of them. "If you'll excuse me."

John nodded and watched Woodhull walk away. He moved stiffly, as if he still wasn't used to the uniform. "How do you know him, Robert?"

"He stayed at my boarding house a few times before I sold it to buy an interest in Rivington's Corner," Robert answered quietly, his hand brushing John's. "Colonel Cooke wants him to stay on Long Island and continue his father's work."

Nodding, John sighed softly. "He's not a seasoned soldier, but he has potential."

"You would know better than I, of course, Major." Robert turned to him and lowered his voice even more. "How long will you stay tonight?"

Smiling faintly at the question, John told him, "Another hour or so, and then I planned to make my excuses and return home."

"Perhaps I will see you there." Robert offered him the tiniest of smiles. "Or at _Rivington's_ tomorrow. Good night, Major."

John nodded and watched Robert make his way to the front door. Reluctantly, he turned to continue mingling, as was expected of him.

*

"Robert, what brings you here so late?" Hercules asked when he opened the door to admit Robert into his home.

Stepping past Hercules into the house so he could close the door, Robert told him, "The Ring sent Culper to join Arnold's American Legion. They want to capture him."

"I expected Washington would want him back, if only to make him pay." Hercules shook his head a little. "Why send Culper?"

Robert raised his eyebrows. "To determine the best time and place to capture him. I need pen and paper to write down what he told me at Kennedy House."

" _You_ went to Kennedy House? Will wonders never cease." Chuckling, Hercules led Robert to his parlor, indicating the desk in the corner.

His voice dry, Robert told him, "I went in order to make contact with Culper, that's all."

"You've never enjoyed parties," Hercules mused as Robert sat down and began to write. He didn't expect a reply and didn't receive one. Instead, he found the waistcoat he needed and began undoing the stitches so Robert's report could be hidden inside.

They worked in companionable silence broken only by the scratch of the quill across paper. By the time Robert finished, Hercules had the waistcoat ready. "Is Father coming to visit soon?"

"He'll be here tomorrow." Hercules nodded as he tucked both papers that Robert handed him into the waistcoat and began sewing it back up. "I'll send the emergency signal."

Robert nodded, picking up his cloak and putting it on once again. "Good. I'll try to come by and see him. If I don't, please give him my love."

"I will." Hercules set the waistcoat aside for a moment and walked Robert to the door. "Give Major André my regards."

Giving Hercules a dry look, Robert put his hat on before stepping outside. "I will. Good night, Uncle Hercules."

"Good night, Robert." Hercules reluctantly closed the door behind his nephew. It'd been nice to see him, even if only for a short time. He shook off his brief loneliness and returned to the parlor. He had a waistcoat to finish sewing and an advertisement to place in the morning.

*

When Caleb entered his tent, Ben stood up so fast that he knocked over his camp chair. "Caleb! Did you get it?"

"It's right here, Tallboy." Caleb brandished a folded piece of paper.

Ben all but snatched the paper out of his hand, skimming through it. "This is fantastic. We can definitely work with this."

"Hmm?" Caleb blinked when Ben squeezed his shoulder. "Did you say somethin', Ben?"

His smile faded and Ben peered closely at Caleb. "Are you all right?"

"Culper sent this along, too." The letter Caleb handed Ben was written in an unfamiliar hand, full of blots and scratched-out words.

_Mr. Caleb,_

_I'm the reason Arnold snatched you. I saw how much Mother being André's servant helped the Ring. I figured the Ring could use someone in Arnold's household. He didn't hire me when I first approached him, on account of how young I am. So I stole a page of André's notes and gave it to Arnold. From those, he figured out you were part of the Ring and acted on it. I'm very sorry, Mr. Caleb. I'm glad the Ring got you out of there. I hope you're recovering well._

_Sincerely,  
Cicero_

Ben slowly lowered the letter, looking at Caleb. His friend had sunk down onto the camp bed, his head bowed. Biting his lip, Ben sat down beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"I dunno." Caleb didn't look at him. He kept staring at his hands. "I can't get Simcoe out of my head. Even dreamin' don't help. I keep thinkin' one o' them is Simcoe."

He frowned, not sure what to make of that. "I-- I wish I could help you, but I'm at a loss."

"If we can get Arnold thanks to this information, it'll have made these--" he gestured to his chest where Ben knew the injuries were still slowly healing "--worth it."

Ben nodded and nudged Caleb's shoulder with his. "It's time to set the rest of our plan in motion, then. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Finally, Caleb gave him a ghost of his typical smile. Ben counted it as a victory to have made him smile at all.

*

Yves startled when Ben stormed into their tent and threw his knit cap onto the camp bed. "We didn't get Arnold."

"I wondered," Yves answered carefully, wondering about Ben's anger. "What happened?"

Ben began unbuttoning the dark wool coat. "They shipped out, tonight. Down the river, so they must be heading south to join up with Cornwallis."

"Are you sure?" Standing up, Yves helped Ben out of his coat and set it aside.

He nodded, tilting his head up so Yves could untie his cravat. "Oui, I saw them boarding the transport ships myself."

" _You_ went?" Yves stared at his 'mate in surprise. "I thought that was Caleb's job."

Ben's eyes glittered with anger and he yanked his cravat from around his neck. "He nearly botched the mission, Yves. He was far too drunk to row when Beddows found me. So I had to go in his place. He nearly ruined everything."

"He has been through a horrible experience, Benjamin," Yves told him quietly, thinking of the way Caleb had been behaving since Ben brought him back. "He needs your understanding more than your censure."

Ben sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "He-- I don't know what to say to him, Yves. I want to help him, but I don't know _how_."

"I would start by apologizing for yelling at him," Yves suggested, gently hugging Ben. "That probably only made him feel worse."

Slowly, Ben nodded. "C'est vrai. I will do what I can to repair our friendship. He's like a brother to me."

"Je sais." Yves kissed him softly. "I'm sure he will understand."

Sighing again, Ben leaned into Yves. "I hope you're right."

*

Not surprisingly, Ben found himself in France once again when he dreamed. He looked around almost frantically. "Yves?" 

"Right here, mon cœur." Yves gasped when Ben practically threw himself at him. "I haven't even left yet."

Ben only clung harder to Yves. "I'll miss you horribly. Dreams aren't enough anymore."

"Not for me, either." Yves kissed the top of Ben's head. "We're lucky that His Excellency even agreed to send me."

He couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. "He's so determined to attack New York that he can't see that the South is a better target."

"Keep trying to talk him around, mon cœur." Yves kissed his forehead this time.

Nodding, Ben took a deep breath. "Please keep an eye out for John Champe and Abraham Woodhull. Champe was supposed to help kidnap Arnold and Abe is Culper."

"You are certain you want me to know about Culper?" Yves gently eased Ben back so they could look at each other.

Ben nodded again, not looking away. "If I can't trust my 'mate, who _can_ I trust?"

"I will do what I can, but you know my duty comes first." Yves smiled warmly.

A relieved smile spread across his face. "I know, but if they hear that you're there, they may find a way to you."

*

"Are you sure you have to do this?" Alex asked as Ben explained his intelligence notes to him in preparation for resigning his post. 

Ben nodded, wishing that this wasn't necessary. "Culper needs my help. You'd do the same thing if it was Mulligan or Yves." Before Alex could formulate a reply, someone knocked on the door. "Come in!"

"Major Tallmadge." At his name, Ben looked up at the guard who entered. "A Lieutenant Brewster for you."

Ben nodded for the guard to let Caleb in. His heart beat faster as he wondered why his friend would be approaching him so formally. Caleb entered and addressed them almost timidly. "Colonel Hamilton. Ahem, Major Tallmadge. The time has come for me to.... resign my commission."

He could only stare at Caleb in stunned shock. _Did he take my words that much to heart? Have I driven him away?_ "I, uh-- I understand."

After an awkward silence, Alex said, "Thank you for your service, Lieutenant Brewster."

"Oh, yes, sir." Caleb shook Alex's hand, smiling more naturally. "Thank you."

Glancing briefly at Ben, who had no idea what to say, Alex asked, "May I inquire as to your future plans?"

"Uh..." Caleb hesitated, and then looked at Ben as well. "Actually, I was thinkin' of headin' south. See if I can't find a friend of mine down there." Ben stared at him, his shock giving way to delight as it occurred to him _why_ Caleb was resigning. _He's going to find Abe!_ "He's a farmer and havin' trouble bringin' in his crop. Thought I might go lend a hand."

Giving Ben a nod, Caleb turned and left. Alone with Alex, Ben slowly sat down in a chair and stared blindly at his papers. "Mon Dieu..."

"Are you all right, Ben?" Alex asked, sitting down in the chair next to his.

He smiled tearfully at Alex. "He looked more like the Caleb I grew up with in Setauket. He won't stop until he finds Culper."

"So you're not resigning after all." Alex grinned at Ben. "Thank God. I wasn't looking forward to taking this on in addition to my other duties."

Ben laughed and gave Alex a playful shove before turning to gather up his papers. _That doesn't solve the question of Mrs. Bates, but that's one less thing for me to worry about._

*

"Mr. Townsend!" Hercules greeted Robert cheerfully, relieved to see him. "Here to sample the latest fashion?" Robert nodded, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Hercules excused himself from his current customer and called over an assistant to finish helping him. "Last I saw you, that fellow was considerin' his suit." Hercules led Robert over to one of the stools so they could pretend to be discussing business. "Was it a successful fit?" 

Robert held out his arm so Hercules could begin taking measurements. "Problem with the cuffs."

"What happened?' Hercules glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

Keeping his voice quiet, Robert told him, "All I know is what I read in Rivington's columns. Arnold and his legion are down in Virginia, so I don't think they got it off in time."

"Arnold in shackles," Hercules muttered, wishing that they _had_ gotten the abduction off in time. "That's one account I'd have enjoyed settlin'." He grinned up at Robert. "Still, nice to see you out from behind the counter."

Glancing around one more time, Robert lowered his voice even further. "Well, your message said it was urgent."

"Actually, this is Cato's news." Hercules finally caught Cato's eye and gestured for him to come over and join them.

Nodding, Cato brought over bolts of cloth for Robert to choose from. "My father-in-law, Admiral Sanders, is hiring the _Gazette_ for a job."

"What does an admiral need printed?" Robert wondered, looking from Cato to Hercules and back with a frown of puzzlement.

Cato waited patiently as Hercules finished taking measurements. "Royal Navy Signal Book. Fighting instructions for the squadron commanders."

"If you could steal a copy," Hercules added, having thought about this when Cato first told him what he'd learned. "One of us could get it to one of our friends."

Robert picked up the first sample of cloth, his mind obviously working away. "A signal book will be more difficult to smuggle out. Even if we were to obtain their signals, would they be of any use? Our fleet is nothing compared to theirs."

"But the French fleet is," Cato told them, lifting his eyebrows significantly.

For several moments, Robert remained quiet, looking at different samples of cloth, all of them very plain and simple to suit a proper Quaker. Finally, he suggested, "What if I were to change the typeset? Change the signals. Send different copies to different commanders."

"It'd cause mass confusion," Cato glanced at Hercules and frowned.

Hercules shook his head slightly. "They'd know you did it, since they'll all come from the same place. They'd come for Rivington, but he'd know it was you."

"That's a chance I'll have to take," Robert replied, looking very much like his mother with the determination glinting in his eyes. "I'm tired of simply watching and listening. I want to _do_ something more."

Hercules couldn't feel prouder of Robert than he did in that moment. "If you do this, you won't be able to stay in York City, regardless of what Rivington does."

"I know. Hopefully, you and 355 will be enough eyes in New York for the Ring."

*

Feeling quite pleased with himself despite eyes gritty from lack of sleep, Robert packed the few belongings he'd brought with him to Rivington's. He didn't regret losing his partnership in _Rivington's Corner_. He'd always planned to give it up when all was said and done. Still, he'd have preferred to do so on his own terms. A last glance around assured him that he hadn't left anything behind. He sat down at the desk to write a note. 

_Dear John,_

_I'm moving back to Oyster Bay. Father and Mother need me there more than Rivington does here. I know you are busy with your work, but you'll always be welcome to visit when you can. Please be careful. We have a future to think about, after all._

_Very affectionately,  
Robert_

He hoped it would be enough to reassure John and give him hope for afterwards. He knew his reticence regarding a future together for them frustrated John, whether he showed it or not. How could he think of it when he was spying for the Continentals? Now that was done, though, and he hoped John still wanted a future with him. _I'll have to come clean about spying eventually. I hope he'll forgive me for it._

*

"Robert, what brings you here?" Samuel asked when Tzipporah admitted him to the house about midmorning. "You must have left York City very early to get here." 

Nodding, Robert stifled a yawn as Tzipporah walked past with his bags. "I haven't slept since yesterday. I did something rather rash for once."

"You? Do something rash?" Sarah asked from the sitting room doorway. "Are you sure you're my son?"

Robert walked over to greet his mother with a kiss on the cheek. "Uncle Hercules and Cato told me that Admiral Sanders had hired the _Gazette_ to print their signal books. I spent last night changing them 'round so different commanders will have different signals."

"And Rivington caught you," Sarah guessed, managing to look both pleased and proud.

He nodded, his wry smile spoiled by the yawn that escaped. "He threatened to expose me, I threatened to expose him in return. In the end, the price of his silence was to sign over my interest in the partnership."

"You always planned to do that anyway," Samuel remarked, stepping forward to support Robert when he swayed where he stood. "I seem to recall you saying once that, if anyone discovered you, it wouldn't be him."

Robert gave a tiny humorless chuckle. "I did, but I was reckless and he caught me."

"Let's get you up to bed." Sarah took Robert's other arm. "You need sleep right now more than anything else."

Robert nodded and let them guide him upstairs to his room. "When I wake up, Father, I have a business proposition for you."

"We'll discuss it, then, Robert." Samuel wondered what Robert meant, but he certainly wasn't going to ask when his son was practically asleep on his feet.

*

"Culper found his way to me. He is safe in my ship's brig," Yves informed Ben when he appeared in their dream, still mostly dressed. 

Ben frowned and tilted his head to one side quizzically. "Why the brig?"

"I couldn't exactly let on that I knew he was Culper, even when he told me as much." Yves chuckled, remembering Woodhull's desperation to make him believe.

Nodding, Ben stepped forward into Yves' arms, resting his head against his chest. "Caleb resigned and headed south to find Abe, so he should arrive soon to confirm Abe's identity."

"I also sent intelligence to His Excellency that Culper brought to me. Would you like to hear it?" Yves could still clearly picture the map that Woodhull had showed him.

Not moving, Ben asked, "Is it time-sensitive?"

"Not exactly." Yves shook his head and kissed the top of Ben's head. "Hopefully, it will change His Excellency's mind about trying to attack Clinton in New York."

Shaking his head again, Ben told him, "I will wait to hear it from Washington. I think he'll like sharing intelligence with me for once."

*

John only half-listened as Ann Bates informed him and General Clinton that the rebels were planning to attack New York. He did rouse himself enough to ask who had procured the intelligence. "In camp, she went by Mary Smith. But her true name is Woodhull, wife to--" 

"Abraham Woodhull," John nodded, remembering him from Kennedy House.

Mrs. Bates nodded, looking surprised. "Yes. You-- you know him?"

"One of them refuses easy money so that he may fight," Clinton told her, clearly remembering Woodhull as well. "The other endangers herself to spy on our behalf. If only we had more colonists like the Woodhulls." John smiled and nodded when Clinton glanced at him expectantly. "And the Bateses. You've done very well, madam."

After the Bateses left, John sighed heavily. Seeing them so happy just made him ache to see Robert again. "If that's all, General, I'll take my leave."

"You've been very distracted of late, John," Clinton remarked, studying him carefully. "I should think you'd be even more pleased by this news."

He managed a smile. "Indeed, I am, sir. I've just not yet found the rebel spy in our midst."

"Maybe a change of scenery will help you," Clinton suggested after studying John for several moments. "Give you a change of perspective and all that."

John stifled a frustrated sigh. He'd hoped to go to Oyster Bay, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen. "Where do you intend to send me?"

"To Virginia. I'll need some of Cornwallis' men to reinforce us here," Clinton told him. "I'd rather have someone I trust take the orders instead of a regular courier."

Though he'd rather protest, John stifled it and simply nodded. "Of course, sir. I'll set out once I have your orders."

"Thank you, John." 

As he walked home, he thought about the note Robert had sent him. It was the first time since they'd met that Robert had mentioned anything about the future or hinted at his feelings for John. He'd thought he was happy with the way things stood between them, but that one little hint had made him even happier. _And now I'm off to Virginia. This isn't a discussion I want to have in our dreams when one of us might be woken up any moment. I want to talk to him about this face-to-face._ He resolved to finish his business in Virginia as quickly as possible, and then go to Oyster Bay and see Robert.

*

Ben heard Abe's voice and followed the sound to see him hugging Thomas, Mary, and Anna. As he approached them, he spotted Caleb and Yves approaching. He grinned at his friend. "I knew you'd find him, Caleb." 

"'Course I did, Tallboy. You're the brains o' this outfit, not me." Caleb hugged Ben for several moments before letting him go.

He turned to Yves, who fidgeted with his signet ring as he waited. "It's good to see you again, mon amour."

"Mon cœur." Smiling brightly, Yves embraced Ben tightly and kissed him, soft and swift out of consideration of the others present. "I have missed you."

When they parted, Abe was looking between the two incredulously. Then he glared at Yves. "You knew, didn't you?"

"Oui, but if I have learned anything about being a spy, appearances must be maintained." Yves bowed his head slightly to Abe. "I apologize for throwing you in the brig. I hope to treat you with better hospitality in the future."

Ben kissed Yves' cheek and looked at Abe ruefully. "Well, so much for Samuel Culper."

"Well, I never liked him anyway." Abe's glare faded as he looked back at his family.

Yves stifled a laugh and told them, "Excusez-moi. I must find Comte Rochambeau and give him my report." He nodded to all of them. "Till we meet again."

"Until then." Ben smiled and watched Yves walk away with admiration.

Abe distracted him. "When were you gonna tell me about him?"

"Soon?" Ben grinned sheepishly at his friend. "When did I have time to tell you before?"

Mary squeezed Abe's arm. "He has a point."

"And that was _tame_ , Woody," Caleb interjected with a grin. "They're positively sickenin' if they don't have to keep up appearances."

His cheeks feeling distinctly warm as the others laughed, Ben cleared his throat and decided to focus on work. "Whenever you're ready, I'll take your final report."

Abe nodded and asked for just a few moments with Mary and Anna. Ben nodded and left with Caleb. Quietly, he said, "I'm sorry, Caleb."

"For what, Bennyboy?" Caleb asked, glancing at him curiously.

Sighing, he admitted, "You were struggling and I didn't see it. When I finally did, I treated you like a subordinate rather than the friend you needed."

"I didn't exactly confide in you, did I?" Caleb pointed out. "Or anyone, at all. Tried to handle it on my own and I couldn't."

Ben caught his arm, gently pulling him to a stop. "Are you doing better now?"

"A bit, yeah." Caleb nodded, meeting Ben's eyes steadily. "I got a shot at Simcoe, and that helped a lot."

He gave a rueful laugh. "Thank you for everything you've done, Caleb. Both for the Ring and for me. I couldn't have managed without you."

"I accept your apology and your thanks, Tallboy. Now let's win the battle, eh?"

*

"Hello, Robert." John's voice stopped Robert in his tracks as he returned to his parents' house after a day of working in the fields. 

His heart pounding, he slowly looked around to see John standing at the corner of the rebuilt barn, smiling fondly. "John. When did you arrive?"

"Just a few minutes ago," John replied, his glance taking in Robert's appearance.

The glance reminded Robert that he'd shed a few layers out of deference to the unexpected heat, leaving him clad only in his shirt, breeches, stockings, and shoes. Clearing his throat, he said, "You said you were returning to York City."

"I _did_ return, in time to hear about Cornwallis' defeat at Yorktown." John held his hand out to Robert, who took it gladly. "Clinton wasn't pleased and I thought it best to stay out of range of his temper. Besides, I wanted to see you."

Making a soft sound of longing in his throat, Robert hugged him tight. "I've missed you."

"We _have_ seen each other in our dreams," John reminded him, even as he hugged Robert back, just as tightly.

Still holding John tight, Robert told him, "Father and Uncle Hercules told me once that dreams aren't as good as reality. They were right."

"Yes, they were." John gently tilted Robert's head up to kiss him, hungry and passionate.

As much as Robert wanted John, he restrained himself long enough to take him upstairs to his bedroom. Afterwards, as they held each other, he brought up the subject he'd hinted at in his note. "John, you once said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. Is that still true?"

"Of course." John propped himself up on one arm to look directly at Robert. "I know I haven't said it lately, but I still love you and I'd gladly marry you."

Those words, so quiet and fervent, brought tears to Robert's eyes. For once, he didn't hold them back. He let them fall and pulled John down for another hug. As he held him, Robert whispered, "I love you, too, and want to marry you."

"Oh, Robert." John kissed him, happy tears falling down his cheeks. "Something's bothering you, though."

He longed to tell John about being a spy, but he couldn't risk it. Not yet. Instead, he said, "I'm afraid of doing anything with the war still going. I know you've kept out of the worst of the fighting, but how much longer is it going to last?"

"Yorktown was quite the blow. I honestly can't see the war dragging on much longer." John gently tucked a lock of Robert's hair behind one ear.

Amused by John's optimism, Robert shook his head slightly. "I wish I could believe that, but I'm too pragmatic."

"I can wait. Knowing that you love me is enough." John kissed Robert again.

*

John and Robert talked quietly as Abigail directed the movers carrying John's things out to the carriage that would transport them to the docks. Holding Robert's hands tight, John told him, "You could come with me, you know." 

"I want to, but Father still needs me." Robert sounded regretful and tears glittered in his eyes.

John only nodded, sighing heavily. "I understand. Will you at least come to England? As soon as you can."

"I am planning on it, yes. I want to meet your family." A faint smile appeared and Robert brought John's hand up to kiss the back.

Smiling brightly at the promise of seeing each other again, John assured him, "I want them to meet you, too."

"Do you plan to stay in the Army?" Robert raised his eyebrows as he asked the question.

John shook his head, smiling warmly. "No, I only joined so I could find you. Now that I have, I'd rather do something else with my life."

"I'll support you, no matter what you choose to do," Robert told him, holding John's hand against his heart.

Making a soft longing sound in his throat, John pulled Robert into a tight hug and kiss. Rather than protest this show of affection where anyone could see them, Robert responded eagerly to the hug and the kiss. Even when they parted to catch their breath, they still held each other tight. Neither of them moved until Abigail cleared her throat. "They've finished loading the carriage, Major André."

"Thank you, Abigail." John kissed Robert one last time before reluctantly releasing him. "I hope to see you in England soon."

Robert nodded, his throat working as John accepted his cloak and hat from Abigail. When he finally found his voice, it was rough with emotion. "I love you, John."

"I love you, too, Robert." John nodded to him one last time and made himself walk out of the house and climb into the carriage. When he looked out the window, Robert stood on the front steps with Abigail. They both waved and he waved back before rapping on the roof with his knuckles. As the carriage rolled off, he kept his eyes on Robert for as long as he could.

*

They started to their feet at the sound of a knock on the door. Hercules' business had suffered with the end of the war. He'd played the part of a loyal Tory so well that most Patriots believed he was a true Loyalist. Glancing at Samuel, Hercules walked to the door and opened it. He gave a laugh when he saw who his visitors were. "Alexander! And your Excellency!" 

Alexander Hamilton entered first, preceding a man who could only be General George Washington himself. Alexander grinned when he saw them. "I wondered if your family would be visiting, Hercules."

"It's been rather fraught here, with the British evacuatin'," Hercules explained, having closed the door. "Your Excellency, I'd like you to meet my dream-mate, Samuel Townsend, his wife, Sarah, and his son, Robert. I believe you know Robert better as Culper Junior." 

Alexander stared at Robert with a shocked expression that quickly turned into a grin. "I had no idea _you_ were Culper Junior. Tallmadge never let on."

"Because I asked to remain anonymous, Alexander," Robert answered mildly, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Or should I say Colonel Hamilton?"

He waved off the question with a chuckle. "Alexander is perfectly suitable."

"It is a very large honor to meet all of our agents in New York," Washington remarked, shaking Samuel and Robert's hands and bowing over Sarah's. "The intelligence you've gathered and conveyed to us has been most helpful."

Samuel smiled, touched that Washington had acknowledged all of their contributions. "When one is a Quaker, it is difficult at times to find a way to contribute that doesn't go against our beliefs at all."

"Father..." Robert chided with a faint smile. "Quakers aren't supposed to choose sides at all."

Sarah gave them both a fond smile, amused by the debate. "In a time like this, it's almost impossible to remain truly neutral."

"Indeed, Mrs. Townsend, and I am grateful for the choice you made." Washington turned to Hercules, who'd been talking quietly with Alexander to one side. "I understand that you've been faced with prejudice thanks to your efforts on our behalf."

Straightening up, Hercules told him, "A small price to pay to provide you what information I could, your Excellency."

"I wish to repay your service by ordering some new suits from you," Washington told him with a calm smile.

Surprised, Hercules nodded quickly. "I would be honored, your Excellency. Do you have time for me to take your measurements now?"

"I do." Washington walked over so Hercules could start measuring him.

As they talked and Alexander stood nearby offering commentary, Samuel quietly asked Robert, "Are you sure about going to England as my agent?"

"I'm certain, Father. He's too well-known here for now." Robert glanced over at the others to make sure they couldn't hear.

Samuel nodded. He quite understood. "We'll miss you, of course, but we want you to be happy."

"I'll write, of course." Robert assured him.

"Of course."

*

"It is beautiful here," Yves commented to Ben as they rode along Setauket's main street as part of Washington's entourage. "I understand why you dreamed of it." 

Ben nodded, his eyes drawn to the church that had been a second home to him and Sam as boys. "It looks like they're recovering well from the war."

"Oui. It's good to see," Yves agreed as they turned the corner to approach what used to be Selah's tavern, but now belonged to DeJong.

Ben grinned when he spotted Caleb and Abe standing together, the latter looking slightly better than he had when Ben last saw him in New York. When Washington dismounted his horse, the rest of them followed suit. While men led their horses away to stable them, Ben walked over with Yves and pulled Abe into a tight hug. "Come here, you bastard."

"Welcome home," Abe told him, hugging him back gladly.

Before any of them could say anything more, DeJong emerged from the tavern to yell at Abe. Apparently, he was working for DeJong to earn money. _I didn't realize it was that bad for him._

"Marten." Selah's arrival with Anna distracted DeJong, to Abe's visible relief.

"Selah Strong?" After a moment, DeJong quickly moved to defend his purchase of the tavern.

Ben stifled a laugh at Selah's calm retort and offer to let DeJong buy the tavern all over again. He nudged Yves, who was shaking with stifled laughter of his own. _Oh, Selah, I missed your dry sense of humor._

They all turned as Washington approached, with much of the town following at a distance. DeJong removed his hat while Abe brushed at his apron. "Excellency! Welcome to our humble town. I am Marten DeJong. Please, allow me to host your entourage at Whitehall."

"Thank you, Mr. DeJong." Washington glanced briefly at Abe before countering his offer with a request to use the tavern instead.

"Of course!" DeJong's fawning made Ben very uncomfortable. "Woodhull, make up the table."

Washington held up a hand to stop Abe, looking directly at him as he explained, "Mr. Woodhull is to be the man of honor."

The other villagers murmured amongst themselves and slowly dispersed. Washington nodded to Abe and walked away to talk to more people. Anna and Selah walked over and she hugged Abe tight. "Are you all right?"

"I've been better," Abe admitted, removing the apron and tossing it at DeJong, who returned to the tavern looking rather confused.

"Hello, Anna, Selah, Caleb, Ben, Gilbert." Mary greeted them quietly when she arrived with Thomas in her arms.

Anna stepped forward to hug Mary and Thomas, whispering something to Mary that made her relax somewhat. Abe nudged Ben, "Have you seen Culper Junior?"

"Alex saw him in York City with the rest of their family," Ben whispered, not surprised that Abe was worried about Robert. "They're all fine."

Abe nodded. "Good. Robert seemed distracted about something when I last saw him."

"When was that?" Ben wondered.

Before Abe could tell him, Selah clasped Abe's shoulder, drawing his attention. "Abe, the four of us have something to discuss."

"What? Oh, sure." Abe nodded to Ben and the others before walking off with Selah, Anna, Mary, and Thomas.

Caleb squeezed Ben's arm before wandering off to look around. Yves leaned close to ask Ben, "Why would those four have something to discuss?"

"I don't know the full story, mind you, but I know that Abe and Anna are dream-mates," Ben told him quietly, slowly walking towards the church with Yves. "They were even engaged at one point. Mary's dream-mate was Abe's older brother, Thomas. He joined the British Army and died during the Liberty Pole riots at King's College back in '73."

Yves drew in a breath at that, his arm tightening around Ben's. "That must be awful for Mrs. Woodhull, to lose him so young."

"Oui, and Abe, for some reason, broke off his engagement with Anna so he could marry Mary." Ben hid a grimace at the thought of marrying someone besides Yves. "Anna then married Selah, who has no dream-mate."

Nodding, Yves glanced back towards the tavern. "I suppose things have changed during the war, so they need to figure out how to manage again."

"I think you're right," Ben agreed, coming to a stop in front of the church.

For several moments, they stared up at the church in silence. Tears slowly blurred Ben's vision as he thought about his one childhood wish. Yves lightly touched his hand. "Benjamin?"

"I was just thinking that Sam and I never got married in this church like we'd planned to," Ben told him in a quiet voice. "Nate died before they could get married and you, well, you're already married, so that's not going to happen."

Yves hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. "If you'd come with me to France, we could talk with Adrienne and decide if we all wish to marry."

"I don't truly _need_ to marry, Yves," Ben reminded him. "Caleb's not married to his 'mates and he's happy."

He felt Yves shake his head. "You are not Caleb, mon cœur. What makes _him_ happy won't necessarily make _you_ happy."

Ben eased back enough to look up into Yves' eyes. "As long as I can spend the rest of my life with you, mon amour, I'll be very happy. Marriage isn't necessary for that."

"Vous-êtes sûr?" Yves asked, looking at him searchingly.

He nodded, gazing back at Yves with a contented smile. "Oui."

Yves nodded back and kissed him softly. After a few moments, Caleb interrupted them to tell them that they were gathering in the tavern. Arm-in-arm, Ben and Yves walked with Caleb to the tavern to join the others.

*

From Setauket, they travelled to Boston to see Yves off to France. Last time he'd gone had been in the middle of the war and Ben hadn't had to watch him go. His duties as Head of Intelligence had made it impossible for him to go with Yves to Boston at the time. Now, however, as the miles to Boston dwindled, they clung to each other ever tighter. They'd been separated before, but neither knew how long this would last. They waved and smiled as they rode through Boston side-by-side behind Washington. Under the tumult of cheers and shouts, Yves told him, "I wish you would come with me, mon cœur." 

"I wish I could, mon amour, but I'm needed here, at least for a little longer," Ben replied, his grip tightening on the reins in his hands. He quickly loosened his grip when his horse protested, tossing his head.

Yves nodded, hiding his unhappiness behind smiles and waves for the crowd. "I will come try to come back for a visit soon."

"Or I may go to France instead if you take too long," Ben told him with an attempt at a cheeky smile. "Who knows what God has in store for us?"

They reached the docks then and dismounted their horses. As men led their horses aside, Washington turned to Yves and bowed to him. "Monsieur le Marquis, it has been a great honor and privilege to have you fight on the side of the American people. I know you will have great demands on your time once you return to France, but I hope you will one day honor me with a visit to my home in Virginia."

"The honor would be mine, Your Excellency," Yves replied with a smile and a bow for the man who'd become a father figure to him. "I will write to let you know as soon as I can."

Nodding, Washington stepped forward to kiss Yves on both cheeks and then hugged him, warm and heartfelt. Once he released Yves, he stepped back so Alex and John could move forward and say their farewells. They hugged him as one, tears glinting in their eyes. Stepping back, John told him, "It won't be the same with you gone, Yves."

"Ben's going to mope horribly," Alex added with a grin for Ben, who bristled for a moment, and then nodded.

Yves smiled and kissed both of their cheeks in turn. "I will be back. Give your Eliza my best wishes and hopes for little Philip."

"Mais oui." Alex grinned again at the reminder that he and John had a newborn son waiting for them in New York.

After a last hug, Alex and John stepped back, leaving Ben to stare up at Yves. He couldn't find his voice. Instead, he hugged Yves tightly, breathing in his scent. For his part, Yves hugged Ben just as tight, his face buried in Ben's hair. His breath hitching in his chest, Yves managed to whisper, " _Any_ separation is too long, mon cœur."

"D'accord, mon amour," Ben whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. "At least we'll have our dreams."

Ben felt Yves shake his head. "It won't be enough."

"Je sais." Reluctantly, he eased back so he could look up at Yves. "Je t'aime, mon amour."

His smile shaky, Yves cupped Ben's cheek with one hand, "Je t'aime aussi, mon cœur."

Tears spilling down his cheeks, Ben pulled Yves down into a last desperate kiss, pouring all his love and longing and hope for the future into the press of their lips. After a moment of surprise, Yves kissed Ben back, just as desperate and loving. They parted only when they needed to breathe and pressed their foreheads together. "Until we dream again."

"Until we dream again." Reluctantly, Ben stepped back from Yves. He felt Caleb wrap an arm around his shoulders and leaned into his friend's strength.

Yves took a step back, his gaze taking in all of them. Then he bowed one last time. As one, they returned the bow. They watched as Yves walked up onto the ship and moved to the railing. He waved at the crowd, who cheered and waved back. Once the ship started for the entrance of the harbor and the ocean beyond, most of the crowd began to disperse.

Ben remained where he was with Caleb, Alex, and John until he couldn't see the ship anymore. Then they walked to the rooms they'd been given for their stay in Boston. While the others requested dinner, Ben headed straight up to the room he and Caleb would share and took off his frock coat and shoes before falling onto his bed.

When he opened his eyes, he was in Setauket, seated on the porch of his father's church. He didn't see Yves. Unable to wait quietly, he stood up and began to pace. He wasn't sure how much time had passed until Yves finally appeared, wearing his shirt and breeches. Giving a glad cry, Ben threw himself into Yves' arms, clinging to him. Yves caught him and held him tight. _Dreams are better than nothing at all._

*

"I thought I'd find you here," Sarah remarked, startling Robert as he packed his things. 

He continued carefully folding his clothes and placing them in his trunk. "Will you and Father be all right without me?"

"We'll be fine." Sarah moved around the room, lightly running her fingers along the few things he'd kept over the years. "This is your idea, you know."

Robert sighed and carefully put the last of his clothes in the trunk. "I know, but Father has never fully recovered from that Thanksgiving with the rest of the Ring."

"You have plenty of cousins and brothers-in-law to help us," she reminded him with a soft laugh. "Give our regards to John when you see him."

He managed a soft huff of laughter, accepting the books she handed him. "Of course. That was never in doubt."

"Will you tell him about being a spy?" Sarah perched on his desk chair, watching as he carefully spread his books on top of his clothes.

Robert nodded, keeping his eyes on his work, as if his life depended on placing the books absolutely correct. "I must. I can only hope that he'll forgive me."

"We've never been good at hoping, Robert," she reminded him, finding his journal and handing it to him without needing to be asked.

He didn't even panic when she found his journal. He simply tucked it into the trunk with everything else. "For John, I'm willing to learn. I love him, Mother."

"Of course you do. You wouldn't go through all this for him if you didn't." Sarah reached over and gently smoothed her hand over his hair, her expression fond.

Robert reached up and caught her hand, squeezing it warmly. "I love you, too. You and everyone else. I know I don't say it often--"

"You don't have to say it. You show it. Just like I do." Smiling warmly, she shifted from the chair to kneel beside him on the rug and hug him tight.

He returned the hug, his throat tight with emotion. Though he would miss all of his family, of course, he would miss his mother most of all.

*

"We'll miss you, Robert," Samuel told him as they stood on the docks at York City. 

Robert nodded, his valise waiting by his feet. "And I'll miss all of you."

"Make sure you bring John back with you when you return," Hercules told Robert with a grin and a wink.

Samuel stifled a laugh as Robert gave Hercules a dry look. "That _is_ part of my reason for going, besides helping Father."

"I know, I know." Laughing, Hercules patted Robert's arm.

Before Hercules could withdraw his hand, Robert took hold of it and tugged Hercules into a warm hug. After a moment of surprise, Hercules hugged him back. Samuel hid a smile. Like his mother, Robert didn't typically go in for public expressions of affection. However, this was the last they'd see him for months, if not years. If there was a time for an exception, this was it. When Robert stepped back, Hercules' eyes were suspiciously moist. "I'll miss you."

"I'll cry if you keep up with that," Hercules told Robert with a watery laugh.

Samuel laughed as well, patting Hercules' back. "Even when you're about to cry, love, you find a way to laugh."

"I have a reputation to maintain," Hercules reminded them, leaning into Samuel for a moment.

The next moment, Hercules stepped back so Samuel could hug his son. Robert's voice was hoarse with emotion as he whispered, "I love you, Father."

"I love you, too, Robert," Samuel whispered back, feeling tears threaten as well. "Give our best to John when you see him."

Nodding, Robert gently freed himself from the hug. "I will. I'll write as soon as I can."

"We'll be waiting," Samuel assured him.

Picking up his valise, Robert walked up the gangplank onto the ship. Samuel and Hercules stood on the dock and waved until they couldn't see Robert at the ship's railing anymore. Sighing deeply, Hercules said, "He's in God's hands now."

"Yes, he is." Samuel nodded, his voice breaking a little. "Let's go home before I start crying in the middle of the docks."

"We can't have that, now, can we?" Chuckling a little, Hercules looped Samuel's arm through his and started towards his shop, where Sarah waited for them. She hadn't gone to the docks with them because she'd preferred to say good-bye to Robert in private.

Samuel sighed deeply. "I wonder if this is how my father felt when I first sailed to England to start my business."

"Most likely." Hercules lightly squeezed Samuel's hand. "Perhaps more so because you were younger than Robert is now."

It took Samuel a few moments to calculate and he nodded. "Yes, I was." Softly, he added, "You weren't even born yet then."

"I'm here now, love," Hercules reminded him quietly.

He nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I know, and I'm very glad to have you in my life, regardless of how long I had to wait."

"And I am glad to be your 'mate," Hercules told him in a quiet, fervent voice.

They continued on their way without further conversation. After all these years, silence between them was comfortable rather than awkward.

*

"Mr. Townsend, isn't it?" At the sound of the familiar voice, Robert turned from the railing to see two women standing nearby, one of whom he recognized. 

He bowed to them, keeping firm hold of the railing. He'd yet to find his sea legs. "Miss Cheer. I didn't know you were on board."

"Nor did I expect to see you." Miss Cheer smiled, and then glanced at her companion. "I'd like you to meet Peggy, General Arnold's wife. Peggy, this is Robert Townsend, he was a partner at _Rivington's Corner_."

Robert bowed again to Mrs. Arnold. "I signed away my partnership, Miss Cheer. I'm now engaged as my father's agent, attempting to rebuild his trading business. The war made it rather impossible to continue."

"The fact that John is there has nothing to do with your need to go to England?" Miss Cheer asked, a sly smile on her lips.

Mrs. Arnold glanced at her friend. "I beg your pardon? What on earth do you mean, Mina?"

"I believe Miss Cheer is hinting at the fact that John André is my dream-mate," Robert informed Mrs. Arnold a little stiffly. Though he'd done his best to keep that fact quiet while he was spying for Washington, Robert saw no reason to hide it any longer.

Miss Cheer nodded, moving closer. "Indeed, I was, Mr. Townsend. You see, John is a good friend to both of us and I hoped he could continue to be a good friend."

"My husband is rather possessive," Mrs. Arnold explained, also moving closer.

Robert glanced from one to the other, realization hitting. "You two are 'mates."

"John told me you were very clever." Miss Cheer tucked her arm through Robert's elbow.

Mrs. Arnold took his other arm and they began to slowly walk along the deck. Robert wasn't quite sure how they managed it. "Yes, we are 'mates and Benedict doesn't like to share. We had friends in York City who helped us find ways to spend time together."

"They aren't sailing to England, though, and you hoped John and I could help you do the same." Robert stifled a sigh. Arnold must have evacuated New York with the rest of the British Army and now his wife was joining him there.

Miss Cheer nodded. "Everyone in York City has known about your father and Mr. Mulligan for years. I hoped you would be sympathetic."

"What is the story about Mr. Mulligan and Mr. Townsend?" Mrs. Arnold looked curious.

Robert stifled another sigh. "My father was an adult by the time Mr. Mulligan was born. Mother knew she'd have to share Father and has never minded. She quite likes him, actually, and he has always been an uncle to myself and my sisters."

"It's a pity not everyone is so kind and generous." Miss Cheer gave a wistful sigh. "I admit I _have_ wondered what your husband is like in bed, Peggy."

Mrs. Arnold made a noise that was hardly ladylike. "He's selfish in _all_ aspects of his life, Mina."

"I will talk to John, but I believe he will agree to aid you two." Robert spoke up more to keep from hearing anything more about Arnold.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Townsend." Miss Cheer stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Before he could respond, Mrs. Arnold had kissed his other cheek. "Yes, thank you so much."

"I'm glad to be of assistance in the name of true love," he answered dryly, feeling his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. He wasn't used to this kind of attention from ladies as lovely as these two. Most women simply looked past him because he dressed so simply and plainly. _I'll have to get used to the attention, should John agree to help._


	5. And in the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the war is over, what do they do with themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Covers events after the series. Trying to tie up some loose ends here.

General Washington's patronage and Alexander Hamilton's friendship had gone a long way towards restoring the general goodwill for Hercules with his fellow Patriots. However, his business took longer to recover. Consequently, Cato chose to return to Africa. "Are you sure about this?"

"You know I mainly came to America to find my 'mate," Cato reminded Hercules. "I've found her and married her and now I'm homesick."

Hercules nodded and glanced away. He'd never told anyone, but he still missed Ireland on occasion, even after all this time. Part of him still longed for the place of his birth, despite the circumstances of his departure. Looking back at Cato, Hercules smiled and hugged him. "I'll miss you."

"Thank you, Hercules." Cato hugged him back, blinking back tears. "For taking in a scared immigrant who could barely speak your language."

He smiled, blinking back tears as well. "Someone took a chance on Da when he first came to America, so I try to do the same for others."

"If only there were more like you." Cato wiped his eyes, smiling despite his tears. "You take care of yourself and your 'mate."

Hercules nodded. "As if I could do any less. I wish both you and Elizabeth all the best."

"The same to you." Cato hugged Hercules one last time before leaving the shop.

Sighing, Hercules looked at the paper Cato had signed to give up his partnership in _Mulligan's Haberdashery_. At this time, he didn't see any point in trying to find a new partner. _I'm not busy enough to truly need one right now. It can wait._

*

Robert gladly disembarked the ship in England. He hadn't enjoyed the trip very much. More precisely, he hadn't enjoyed being seasick. At the foot of the ramp, he paused, taking in London for the first time. Even now, he could feel how old it was compared to York City. Just as he began to wonder where John was, he heard his voice, "Robert!"

"John!" Robert smiled warmly when he finally spotted John in the crowd. His 'mate wore a very elegant and sophisticated suit, very different from what he'd worn in America.

Smiling brightly when they finally reached each other, John extended his hand to Robert. Taking his hand, Robert pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of John's neck. "It's wonderful to see you in the waking world again."

"Agreed," Robert murmured, breathing in John's scent gladly.

After several moments, someone nearby cleared their throat and they reluctantly parted to find an older man standing nearby, amusement on his face. "John, would you care to make introductions?"

"Ma certo." John smiled and guided Robert closer. "Robert, this is my father, Antoine André. Father, this is mio partner dei sogni e mio amore."

Antoine bowed to Robert, who returned the gesture a little awkwardly. "Un grande piacere, Signore Townsend. John has told us much about you."

"Sono onorato di incontrarti," Robert replied, pronouncing the Italian carefully. He hadn't practiced it much, though he'd learned it alongside John. "Anche lui è il mio amore."

John beamed when Robert said that, the look on his face taking Robert's breath away. "If you're not careful, Robert, I may just kiss you, right here and now."

"Then we should, perhaps, get going," Robert told him, feeling playful for once.

Antoine chuckled. "Where is your luggage, Signore Townsend?"

"Over there," John answered instead, gesturing towards where the passengers' luggage was being unloaded. Together, they headed over.

Robert looked carefully and eventually spotted his trunk. He pulled it away from the rest of the luggage and turned to John and Antoine. Both of them looked at him in surprise. "Sì?"

"That's it?" Antoine asked while John's surprise gave way to amused smile.

Glancing around, John told his father, "Lui è un quacchero, Padre."

"Ottimo. Andiamo," Antoine gestured towards the exit.

John picked up the other end of Robert's trunk and they carried it together after Antoine. He reached the carriage first and spoke to the footmen. They quickly relieved John and Robert of their burden. In short order, they were all in the carriage and on their way to the Andrés' London home. "What do you think of London so far, Robert?"

"It's very different from York City," Robert admitted, very aware of John's side pressing against his. "Until now, that was the largest city I'd seen."

Antoine, seated across from them, raised his eyebrows, just as John often did. "You did not travel much, Signore?"

"No. Mostly between my father's farm in Oyster Bay and York City." He bit back the fact that he'd also traveled to Setauket. He still needed to tell John about having been a spy.

Looking curious, Antoine asked, "What does your father do? I don't think John ever said."

"He farmed during the war. However, before the war he was a merchant," Robert told them calmly. "Apart from seeing John, I came to London to renew his merchant contacts."

Antoine nodded thoughtfully. John squeezed Robert's hand gently, "How is your father, by the way? And the rest of your family?"

"Father's health has never fully recovered from that eventful Thanksgiving you missed." Robert intertwined his fingers with John's, earning a warm, happy smile from him. "Mother does what she can, but I'm sure one of my cousins will likely take over the farm within the next few years."

John kissed Robert's cheek. "What about Hercules? Did he suffer any repercussions for being so loyal to the British?"

"He did, but he weathered them and his business is slowly recovering." Robert looked at Antoine, noticing the curiosity on his face. "Hercules Mulligan is my father's dream-mate and owns a tailoring business in York City."

Antoine nodded, smiling. "Io vedo. What about your mother's, ah, dream-mate?"

"She doesn't have one." Robert shook his head, hiding his worry about Antoine's reaction.

His smile fading, Antoine didn't reply because the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a rather impressive townhouse. It looked much more elegant than Kennedy House. John descended first, helping first Robert, and then Antoine from the carriage. Two older women waited in the entryway, greeting both Antoine and John with kisses on each cheek. "Mère, Tante Lise, I'd like you to meet my partenaire de reverie, Robert Townsend of Oyster Bay in America. Robert, this is my mother, Marie André, and her dream-mate, Èlise Robichaud."

"Enchanté de faire votre connaissance," Marie told Robert, extending her hand to him first.

Taking her hand, Robert bowed over it and kissed the back, just as he'd seen the more elegant gentlemen do back in York City. "Enchanté, Madame André, Mademoiselle Robichaud."

"Enchanté, Monsieur Townsend," Èlise added as she extended her hand so Robert could bow over it and kiss it as well, which he did. "You speak French very well, Monsieur."

Antoine chuckled from where he stood with John. "And Italian."

"I learned them with John," Robert told them, flattered by their compliments.

Clearing his throat, Antoine asked, "Können Sie deutsch?"

"Ja, mache ich," Robert nodded, and then cleared his throat. "They've come in useful when I owned a boarding house in York City, but I still mostly speak English."

Smiling graciously, Marie assured him, "We will help you practice all of them."

"They will come in useful while you work as your father's agent," Antoine added helpfully.

Robert nodded, smiling. "Ich weiß."

"For now, you would probably like to rest after the journey you've had," Èlise suggested gently.

John took Robert's hand in his. "I'll show you up to your room."

"Make sure he rests, mon fils," Marie called after them.

Grinning, John called back, "Oui, Mère!"

"Is there a reason I wouldn't rest?" Robert asked mildly as they continued on their way.

John's grin turned sly, "You'll be sharing my rooms."

Robert gave a soft huff of laughter and leaned into John. Despite the long and difficult journey, he was very glad to be here with him. _I just have to tell him about being a spy now._

*

"Mr. Townsend!" Abraham's call drew Samuel's attention as he climbed down from his carriage after a short trip into town.

He gave a wave and waited as Abraham rode up and dismounted his horse, which was taken by one of the stable hands. "Welcome back to Oyster Bay, Abraham. I didn't expect to see you again, now that the war is over."

"I was in the area, actually, and thought I'd come by and see how you and your family are doing," Abraham explained, following Samuel into the house.

Nodding, Samuel handed his hat and cloak to Tzipporah and asked her to bring tea into the sitting room. "We're doing as well as can be expected. What about yourself?"

"Uh, better now that I've been paid back for my expenses." Abraham hesitated on the threshold of the sitting room because Sarah sat on the sofa, embroidering something. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Townsend."

Sarah nodded to him, her expression cool. "Mr. Woodhull."

"Come in and have a seat, Abraham." Samuel urged him into the room and indicated the chair. "That's good news about your expenses."

Slowly sitting down, Abraham asked, "Did Robert receive his compensation?"

"He gave Samuel permission to accept it on his behalf," Sarah told him, carefully tucking her needle into her project and putting it in her workbasket.

Noticing the curious expression on Abraham's face, Samuel explained, "Robert's gone to England to act as my agent."

"For what?" Abraham wondered, managing to look both surprised and curious.

Tzipporah arrived with the tea then and Sarah took the moment to pour for everyone. "Milk or sugar, Mr. Woodhull?"

"Two lumps of sugar, please," he requested, fidgeting until she passed the teacup to him.

Samuel nudged the biscuits towards Abraham before answering his question. "I had a trading business before the war and Robert offered to help me renew that now that the war has ended."

"He also wished to do a bit of traveling," Sarah added, sipping her tea. "Now that he doesn't have a business to maintain."

Abraham nodded, finishing the biscuit he'd eaten. "I understand and, um." Here he glanced at each of them in turn. "I also came to apologize for my part in the-- the attack on you, Mr. Townsend. I should have thought of another way to convince Robert."

"I accept your apology, Abraham," Samuel assured him, reaching over to pat his arm. "I'm still alive and I understand that Robert's information was invaluable to General Washington."

Sarah shook her head and looked at Abraham. "Before I answer: I know Mr. Brewster allowed Robert to punch him. What about you?"

"Yes, um, I did." Abraham set his cup back on its saucer so he could rub his stomach. "I didn't expect him to punch me in the stomach, but he accepted my apology."

Samuel stifled a sigh when he saw the satisfied expression on his wife's face. Sarah only nodded. "Very well. If Robert forgave you, then I do as well."

"Now that that's out of the way," Samuel interjected, hoping to redirect the conversation. He appreciated the apology, but he didn't want to dwell on the incident in question. "How are your wife and son?"

Finally, Abraham smiled. "They're well. Thomas has grown so much and Mary is pregnant with our second child."

"That's excellent news." Samuel smiled, lifting his teacup in a salute. "Congratulations to the two of you."

After a few moments of silence during which Abraham fidgeted with his teacup, Sarah said, "You have something else on your mind, Mr. Woodhull. What is it?"

"I beg your pardon?" Abraham stared at her, surprised by the question.

Samuel stifled a laugh, smiling fondly at Sarah. "Robert takes after his mother, Abraham."

"Oh, I, uh, I see." Abraham cleared his throat. "Mary isn't the only one who's pregnant. Anna is, too. With my child."

Samuel gazed at him in surprise for a moment. "Well, I congratulate all three of you, Abraham. I hope both babies are healthy."

"You and Mrs. Strong are 'mates, aren't you?" Sarah asked, an amused smile on her face. "I noticed when you all came by for Thanksgiving."

Abraham nodded, slowly relaxing and taking a sip of his tea. "Yes, we are. In a way, the Ring has helped us all understand ourselves better."

"I suppose we sometimes need the help," Samuel chuckled softly. He hadn't needed help to understand how Hercules would fit into his life with Sarah, but he'd already been an adult when Hercules came into his life.

Sarah pushed the biscuits even closer to Abraham. "I am glad that you found an arrangement that would work for all of you, Abraham. I wish you all the best."

"Thank you, Mrs. Townsend."

*

It took close to a week for John to finally take Robert out to the gardens. As they walked along the different paths, Robert took in the sights and smells with obvious pleasure. "These are always beautiful in our dreams, but they're even better in reality."

"I quite agree," John assured him, casually guiding Robert towards a particular spot in the gardens. He liked it because it wasn't visible from the house so they'd have at least a semblance of privacy. "I hope you'll get to see these through the seasons. They're gorgeous."

Robert nodded, a smile twitching at his lips. "I look forward to it." He glanced at John curiously. "Are we going somewhere in particular?"

"Sì, noi siamo." They finally reached the spot John wanted. Turning to Robert, he took both of his hands and knelt on one knee. Robert's eyes widened as he stared down at John. "Robert, I've loved you all my life. The months apart since the war have been lonely until you arrived last week. I'm happiest with you in my life. Will you marry me?"

Tears glinted in Robert's eyes and his hands trembled a little in John's grasp. It took several moments for him to find his voice and John could see his throat working all the while. "Before I answer your question, John, there's something you need to know." He tugged John to his feet and led him over to a nearby bench. "I told you once that I bought an interest in _Rivington's Corner_ so we could meet." John nodded, remembering that conversation clearly. Robert took a deep breath before continuing his explanation. "It wasn't my only reason. I also did it so I could gather intelligence for Washington."

" _You_ were the traitor in our midst?" John stared at Robert in shock, not quite sure what to feel. On the one hand, it was nice to have that question answered at last. On the other hand, he hadn't expected his dream-mate to be the spy he'd never found.

Robert frowned at him, his chin coming up just a little. "Traitor to whom, John?" Robert didn't wait for John to reply, he just continued his explanation. "I didn't _want_ to do it, especially since I knew you were in the British Army. There was a chance that anything I passed on could end up hurting you somehow. I don't know if I could have lived with myself knowing that I'd somehow led to your death."

"And yet you chose to spy," John pointed out quietly, still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation.

Robert nodded, clasping his hands in his lap. Only then did John realize that he'd released his hands at all. "I did, because I couldn't remain neutral like a proper Quaker should have."

"I-- I need time to come to grips with this," he told Robert quietly, his mind going in several different directions at once.

Robert nodded, his throat working for another moment before he said, "Of course. Please remember that I told you because I don't want there to be secrets between us."

"I quite understand. Thank you for telling me." John truly did appreciate that Robert had told him. It's just that, for once, he needed time instead of Robert.

*

The last few days had been just a little uncomfortable for Robert. John had been quiet and withdrawn as he thought about what Robert had told him, spending many hours either walking in the gardens or in the music room, playing the flute, violin, or harpsichord. In their dreams, John said little, but he at least held Robert close. He wondered if this was how John had felt all those years in America when he'd waited for any sign or hint that Robert loved him at all. He was very glad for the distraction of building up his father's business, with help from Antoine. At the moment, Robert sat in the library, enjoying the Andrés' expansive library. He'd long ago memorized all of his parents' books. It was wonderful to read something completely new. He looked up at the sound of a knock on the open door and started to his feet. "John."

"I'm glad you're enjoying my parents' library." Smiling, John moved further into the room, gesturing to the settee where Robert had been sitting. "Please, sit down."

Nodding, Robert sat and marked his place in the book he'd been reading. He drew in a breath when John sat down beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of his body. "I wasn't sure I'd see you today."

"I apologize for keeping my distance." John took Robert's hand in his and laced their fingers together. Robert's heart beat faster at the intimacy of the gesture. "As you've no doubt guessed, I've been thinking a lot about what you told me."

He nodded again, keeping his eyes on their entwined hands. "I did guess as much. I hope you understand that I never--"

"Shh, Robert." John pressed a finger to Robert's lips, smiling fondly. "The fact that you were a spy doesn't change the fact that I love you. Both of us were doing what we thought was best for the colonies. We just happened to have different ideas of what that was."

Robert kissed the tips of John's fingers and gently tugged them down. "I knew it'd hurt when I finally told you, but I couldn't sit and do _nothing_."

"I know. I don't blame you for it." John slid from the couch to kneel on the floor, gazing up at Robert with a tender smile. "Which is why I'm asking again: will you marry me?"

Happy tears springing to his eyes, Robert obeyed his first impulse for once and threw himself into John's arms. "Yes, of course! I love you, John."

"I love you, too, Robert." John smiled and kissed him, sweet and soft. "Though I'd like to marry you as soon as possible, I don't want to deprive your parents of the pleasure of seeing you married at last."

Pulling back to look at John, Robert asked, "Either we'd have to ask my parents to come here to England or we'd have to go to America ourselves."

"Yes, and I thought going to America would be better." John gently stroked Robert's cheek. "My parents would come with us, of course. I don't want to deny them the pleasure, either."

Offering John a warm smile, Robert nodded happily. "That would be just perfect."

*

When Robert wrote to tell them that he and John were returning to America with John's parents, Samuel, Sarah, and Hercules began to make arrangements for all of them to stay in either York City or Oyster Bay, depending on their preference. They waited somewhat anxiously on the docks for them to disembark once their ship arrived. Naturally, Sarah spotted them first. "There they are, at the top of the gangplank."

"Father! Mother! Uncle Hercules!" Robert's voice barely carried over the crowd just as Samuel spotted Robert and John.

They worked their way through the crowd even as Robert and John did the same. Robert had the largest smile Samuel had ever seen on his face as he caught Samuel in a tight hug. His voice thick with emotion as he finally held his only son again, Samuel could barely whisper, "Welcome home, Robert."

"It's wonderful to see you again, Father," Robert replied, his voice just as hoarse.

Once Robert moved away to greet Sarah and Hercules with equally-heartfelt hugs, John stepped forward, his hand extended. "Hello again, Mr. Townsend. You look to be in good health."

"I'm glad to see you, John." Samuel took John's hand and pulled him into a hug as well. As Robert's 'mate, he was as much a member of their family as Robert himself. With a soft, startled laugh, John hugged him back.

After John greeted Hercules (who also pulled him into a hug) and Sarah (she contented herself with a kiss on the hand), he gestured to the older man and women waiting patiently nearby. "Padre, Mére, Tante Lise, I'd like you to meet Robert's parents, Samuel and Sarah Townsend, and Samuel's dream-mate, Hercules Mulligan. Mr. And Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Mulligan, my parents, Antoine and Marie André, and Mére's partenaire de reverie, Élise Robichaud."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Samuel told them, extending his hand with a warm smile.

Antoine André looked to be a few years older than Samuel, with silver hair threading through his rich brown hair at his temples giving him a distinguished look. He shook Samuel's hand firmly, his smile reminding Samuel of John in that moment. "The pleasure is mutual, Signore Townsend. Your son has been most charming."

"His manners are impeccable," Marie added, offering her hand when Antoine stepped aside. She had her son's dark blonde hair, the style more elaborate than anything Samuel had seen, but Quakers tended towards simplicity as it was.

After Samuel bowed and kissed her hand, Élise took her place and offered her hand as well. She had lighter blonde hair than her 'mate, also pulled up into an elaborate style. "We've been most eager to meet his family."

"And we have been very eager to meet you as well, Mademoiselle Robichaud," Sarah interjected, shaking Élise's hand once Samuel had bowed and kissed it as well. "John has been a very charming guest."

Smiling fondly at John, who stood nearby with Robert, Élise laughed softly. "Mon neveu has always been charming, even when he was little."

"Neveu?" Hercules repeated, bowing and kissing Élise's hand. "That wouldn't happen to be French for nephew, would it?"

She nodded, raising her eyebrows at Hercules. "Oui, Monsieur Mulligan. Do you call Robert your nephew?"

"That I do." Hercules smiled warmly at Robert. "He and his sisters are as much my children as Samuel and Sarah's."

Robert stepped forward then. "Perhaps we should check that the cart is loaded with their luggage? It's been a very long journey."

"He is not much for public displays, is he?" Marie asked, slipping her arm through Élise's.

Taking Samuel's arm while Hercules took his other one, Sarah answered simply, "No, he isn't."

"Something he gets from his mother," Samuel interjected, kissing Sarah's cheek, and then Hercules'. "Lead the way."

They followed John and Robert from the docks. As they walked, Samuel was amused to note that Robert had his arm looped through John's. Thoughtfully, Hercules asked, "When did John start using a cane?"

"He's always used one except when he was in uniform," Marie told them, frowning a little. "You've never seen him use it?"

Samuel shook his head, as did Hercules. Sarah looked thoughtful. "I believe he only used it sparingly, if he used it at all."

"That could be the case." Antoine nodded his agreement once they reached the cart loaded with more luggage than Samuel thought possible for just four people. "Is everything here, mio figlio?"

Nodding, John answered, "Sì, Padre. We just need the address."

"Of course." Hercules stepped to the driver and gave him the address. Nodding, the driver spoke to his horses and the cart set off. "We arranged lodgin's for you both here in York City and Oyster Bay. Keep whichever you like of the two."

Marie smiled. "That was very thoughtful of you, Monsieur Mulligan."

"It was Sarah's idea, actually." Hercules smiled at Sarah, who sighed softly, but nodded when the others looked at her.

With that, they headed to their carriages to go to the house themselves.

*

As they gathered in the sitting room after dinner, John smiled when Robert clasped his hand. He'd been pleased and flattered when Robert had proven to be more demonstrative in England than he ever was in America. Given his revelation about gathering intelligence, John guessed why Robert had been so reticent. A small part of him had worried that Robert would go back to that reticence upon their return, but he had not. It felt good to stroll along with Robert's arm tucked through his or holding his hand.

Once John and Robert sat down side-by-side as they usually did, John took in their parents and stifled a laugh. Marie sat between Antoine and Élise, as she always did. Samuel sat between Sarah and Hercules, an arrangement John had noticed before on his visits to Oyster Bay. _The parallel never occurred to me before now._

Robert nudged John, who captured his hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss the back, smiling at him with fondness. Sarah spoke before Robert could say or do anything in response. "Robert, John, I get the impression that there's something you'd like to tell us."

"Always observant, Sarah," Hercules murmured, smiling warmly at her.

"You tell them, Robert," John told him quietly as they got to their feet.

"I always intended to, John." Robert gave him a prim look, belied by the warmth in his eyes. Turning back to his parents, he told them, "Mother, Father, Uncle Hercules, John and I are engaged. We'd like to marry here in America."

A warm smile lit Samuel's face and he stood up to gather both Robert and John into a tight hug. "I hoped you two would marry. This is wonderful."

"Thank you, Father." Robert hugged Samuel back, tears leaking down his cheeks.

John's eyes were far from dry as he returned the hug as well. "Thank you, Mr. Townsend."

"Tsk, tsk. There's no need for such formality now that you're marrying Robert." Samuel shook his head at John. "Call me Samuel, or even Uncle Samuel if you prefer."

Hercules tapped Samuel on the shoulder and he moved aside so his 'mate could engulf the two in a hug as well. "I have no regrets about my relationship with Samuel and Sarah, but I am glad you two will have this."

"You know you've always been more of a father than an uncle to me," Robert told Hercules quietly, meeting his eyes steadily.

Somehow, Hercules' smile brightened even more. "Thank you, Robert."

"It's the same with Tante Lise." John smiled fondly at Élise, who blew him a kiss.

Hercules gave John a stern look. "You're to call me Hercules or Uncle Hercules now, too."

"Yes, Uncle Hercules." John didn't quite stifle a chuckle when Hercules hastily wiped his eyes.

He and Samuel returned to their seat, leaving them to Sarah. She studied them for several moments. "God has never given me a dream-mate and I have never regretted that. I found contentment with Samuel and Hercules. Seeing you two now, how happy you both are, part of me wonders if I'm missing out on something."

"Mother, you had the courage to find someone to share your life with on your own," Robert told her, taking both of her hands in his. "I don't think I could have done that if I hadn't had the connection with John already."

Gently freeing one hand, Sarah cupped Robert's cheek. "I think you give yourself too little credit, Robert, but I am very glad for you both."

"Thank you, Mother." Robert hugged her tight, more tears trickling down his cheeks.

The next moment, Sarah reached out and pulled John into the hug as well. "Be good to my son, John. I'll know if you aren't."

"I love him, Mrs. Townsend--Sarah." John corrected himself at the look she gave him. "His happiness is mine."

She smiled, looking pleased. "As it should be."

Turning to Robert, she whispered a question, to which he simply nodded his reply. Though Sarah raised her eyebrows, she didn't respond otherwise and simply returned to her seat, whispering something to Samuel, who in turn whispered to Hercules. As John and Robert resumed their seats, Marie observed, "It's wonderful that you approve as well."

"Why would we not?" Samuel asked, head tilted curiously. "From the moment I met John, I could see that he made Robert happy in a way that I'd never seen before. I could hardly deny them after that."

Antoine nodded thoughtfully. "I have helped Robert make contacts in England for your business, Signore Townsend. He is... different when he is not with John."

"You don't need to be diplomatic with me, Zio Antoine," Robert told him with a dry smile. "I know I'm aloof and quiet around most people."

Antoine chuckled, but didn't say anything else. As they settled in to discuss their upcoming wedding, John felt Robert clasp his hand once again. It felt wonderful.

*

"Hello, Hercules," Alexander greeted him once Hercules opened the door to his knock. "We heard that Robert had returned to America."

Chuckling, Hercules stepped aside so Alexander and John could come inside. "You heard correctly, Alex. He happens to be visiting right now."

"Excellent." Holding John's hand in his, Alexander headed straight for the parlor. "Robbie! Welcome back to America."

As Hercules followed them in, Robert answered dryly, "You know I dislike that name, Alexander. Please stop using it."

"I couldn't resist, for old time's sake." Alexander laughed, offering his hand to Robert, who shook it firmly. "I also wished to introduce you to my dream-mate, John Laurens. John, this is Robert Townsend, Samuel and Sarah's son."

John offered his hand with a charming smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Robert. I understand we have you to thank for some of the intelligence we received over the course of the war."

"I'm glad Alexander finally found you, Mr. Laurens," Robert replied, shaking John's hand. "And, yes, I was Culper Junior."

Catching their attention, Hercules gestured for everyone to sit down. "Speaking of being Culper Junior, Robert--"

"Yes, Uncle Hercules, I told John." Robert sounded exasperated. He noticed Alexander and John's puzzlement and explained, "My dream-mate is John André. We met during the war and part of my reason for going to England was to visit him there."

Alexander stared at Robert in surprise for several moments. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words. Patting Alexander's hand, John asked, "Your dream-mate is the former head of British intelligence? Did you only tell him about yourself?"

"I was just about to ask that," Hercules interjected, amused that John had asked the question he'd been wondering himself for the past few days.

Robert shook his head with a sigh. "You should know me better than that, Uncle Hercules. I only told John _my_ secret. If anyone else wants to tell him their secret, that's their decision."

"That's good to know." At the sound of another knock, Hercules stifled a sigh and stood up to answer the door. "Ah, John. I thought you were showing your parents around York City?"

Stepping inside when Hercules gestured for him to enter, John smiled fondly. "They needed a break, so they returned home. I came here in search of Robert."

"He's in the parlor." Hercules gestured for John to walk ahead of him into the parlor. "Look who just arrived, Robert."

Standing up, Robert greeted John with a hug and a soft kiss. "You have perfect timing, John."

"I do?" John asked, raising his eyebrows.

Nodding, Robert turned him to see Alexander and John Laurens. "I'd like you to meet Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens. Alexander, Mr. Laurens, this is my dream-mate, John André."

"An honor to meet you, Mr. André," Alexander stood and offered his hand to John. "Or is it still Major?"

Shaking Alexander's hand, John told him, "I'm not in the Army anymore, Mr. Hamilton. Or is it still Colonel?"

"We're not officers anymore, Mr. André," John told him, shaking his hand when Alexander finished. "Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Laurens will be fine."

As they settled in their seats, Hercules looked from John Laurens to John André. "We have a bit of a conundrum here."

"I sometimes go by Jack," John volunteered before Hercules could finish articulating their problem.

John shook his head when Hercules looked at him inquiringly. "I do not go by Jack. John is perfectly fine."

"Problem solved," Alexander remarked, looking satisfied. He looked at John and Robert. "What brings you two back to America?"

Robert held John's hand tight in his. "We're engaged and came to America to get married so my parents could be there."

"Congratulations to both of you." Alexander grinned, looking from one to the other. "I hope you have many happy years together."

Jack nodded his agreement. "Yes, congratulations."

"Thank you, Alexander, Mr. Laurens." Robert smiled quietly at the two.

John brought Robert's hand up to kiss the back, smiling fondly at him. Then he looked at Alexander and Jack. "Thank you."

"We have news of our own to share," Alexander told them, still grinning. "Jack and I found our third: Elizabeth Schuyler."

Nudging Alexander, Jack added, "Her name is Laurens-Hamilton now, though."

"That's excellent news," Robert told them, his smile polite yet sincere. "Congratulations to the two of _you_."

John nodded, smiling as well. "I wish you three a long and happy life together."

Hercules relaxed in his chair, smiling at all four of them. _My secret is safe. That's good._

*

"Ben! Welcome to our humble home." Alex smiled warmly and stepped aside so Ben could enter. "Thank you for coming."

Stepping inside, Ben removed his hat and handed it to Alex, who hung it up alongside three other hats. He frowned at the sight. _One of those is Jack's, I'm sure. Who else could be here?_ Shaking off that question, he looked back at Alex. "What was so important that I needed to come see you? I have a lot to do."

"There's someone here who'd like to see you," Alex told him with a sly, mysterious smile.

Shaking his head with an amused smile, Ben followed him to the parlor. John and Eliza sat on the settee opposite their guest. A bright smile lit Ben's face when he recognized their guest. "Yves! I thought you were visiting Washington."

"I was, but did you really think I'd come all the way to America without seeing you, too?" Yves laughed and caught Ben when he hurried across the room and flung his arms around him.

Before he answered the question, Ben pulled Yves down for a deep, satisfying kiss, He smiled afterwards. "Not really, no, but I wasn't sure how long you'd be in Virginia."

"His Excellency understood that I wished to see you," Yves told him, sitting down opposite John, Eliza, and Alex. "And, of course, our other friends here."

Smiling sheepishly, Ben nodded to them as joined Yves. "Hello, Jack, Eliza. I apologize for all but ignoring you."

"No need to apologize, Ben," John assured him with a teasing smile. "I can hardly blame you."

Eliza nodded, her smile demure as she rested her hand on the swell of her stomach. "You haven't seen each other for some time. We quite understand."

"When is your baby due?" Ben asked, amused by the way both Alex and John wrapped their arms around Eliza, almost as if they were trying to protect her.

Looking quite proud, she told him, "The doctor says October. I say September."

"Congratulations to all three of you," Ben told them, smiling at the way both Alex and John seemed to swell with pride. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Have you heard from Mr. Mulligan and his family recently?"

The other three exchanged uncertain glances and Ben frowned. He wasn't sure what to think of that. Yves asked what Ben was thinking. "What is it, Alex, Jack? Has something happened to Mr. Mulligan?"

"Not-- Not exactly." John answered, fidgeting with his wedding ring. "Um, Robert has returned from England. With his fiancé, John André."

Ben was very glad they weren't drinking tea, otherwise he might have choked on it. "I beg your pardon? He's engaged to John _André_? The head of British Intelligence?"

" _Former_ head of British Intelligence," Alex corrected him. "He resigned his commission. Apparently, he and Robert are dream-mates."

He sat back in his seat, his estimation of Robert Townsend going up several notches. "It must have been difficult for him."

"I couldn't say," Alex admitted quietly. "He's the sort who hides what he feels beneath a calm façade, much like the old man."

Ben couldn't stop a huff of laughter at Alex's affectionate appellation for Washington. "I'd like to see him. Is he staying in York City?"

"For now." John assured him with a nod. "After their wedding, they're heading back to England."

Yves took Ben's hand and squeezed it gently. He would go with Ben to see Robert.

*

Naturally, Hercules insisted on making John and Robert's wedding suits. _"Consider it my weddin' gift to you. If Robert had any brothers, I'd have made theirs as well."_

Neither Robert nor John had been able to deny Hercules, and so they spent several hours choosing fabrics and styles. For once, Robert went against his Quaker sensibilities and chose beautiful, luxurious fabrics. A deep, rich charcoal gray with a subtle pattern picked out in black thread. To complement Robert, John chose a rich, dark green fabric for his suit with a very subtle gold thread woven through it.

Once the suits were mostly complete, Robert and John returned to ensure that the fit was good. They stood patiently as Hercules flitted around them, tugging at the fabric. At his request, they moved their arms and legs so he could check that the stitches would hold. "Hmm, I forgot to sew the bottom of your waistcoat, Robert. Too used to hidin'-- shite."

"Hmm, Washington had _two_ men in York City, apparently." John remarked from where he stood nearby, an amused smile on his lips. "No wonder I had trouble figuring you out."

"I didn't mean to let that slip." Hercules glanced up at Robert, and then back at John. "What are you going to do about it?"

Smiling faintly, John shook his head. "Nothing."

"Nothin'?" Hercules looked surprised, not that Robert blamed him.

Stepping forward, John gently drew Hercules into a hug. "I'm no longer the Head of British Intelligence, Uncle Hercules. You have nothing to worry about from me."

"Thank you, John." Hercules returned the hug, blinking quickly to hold back his tears.

While Robert and John changed into their regular clothes, the bell over the shop door rang. Hercules' voice carried to the back room easily. "Alex, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"A couple friends of mine hoped to meet Robert," Alexander replied, his voice carrying easily as well. "Is he upstairs?"

Tugging his frock coat into place while John still tied his cravat, Robert stepped into the shop. "No, I'm right here, Alexander."

Two strange gentlemen stood behind Alexander. One of them must have been easily as tall as General Washington, the powder on his hair not quite hiding its red color, and his clothes more elegant than even John usually wore. The other was a little shorter with brownish blonde hair and more modest clothes. Smiling, Alexander walked over and shook Robert's hand in greeting. "Hello again, Robert. I'd like you to meet--"

"Hold off on the introductions, please, Alexander," Robert requested, glancing over his shoulder. "John is here, too."

"John André?" The question came from the shorter of the two strangers, blue eyes curious.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, Robert turned to see John emerging from the back room, tugging his frock coat into place. "Yes, I am John André."

"Should have known you two wouldn't be far from each other." Alexander grinned at them. "Robert, John, I'd like you to meet Benjamin Tallmadge and Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. Ben, Yves, as you've no doubt guessed, these two gentlemen are Robert Townsend and John André."

John offered his hand first, his smile quite charming. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Tallmadge, Monsieur Lafayette."

"Pour moi aussi," Tallmadge replied, shaking John's hand first. "It wasn't easy to stay ahead of you at times."

Lafayette shook John's hand as well. "I'm honored as well, Monsieur."

"I didn't expect to meet you, but it's a pleasure," Robert told them, shaking their hands in his turn. "What brings you here?"

They glanced at each other, clearly hesitating over what to say. Hercules cleared his throat. "Ah, if you're worried about John, he knows about both Robert and myself passin' information durin' the war."

" _Both_ of you?" Alexander looked at Hercules in surprise. "I thought you weren't going to tell him at all?"

Smiling sheepishly, Hercules admitted, "It just slipped out."

"I have no intention of acting on the information." John assured them, taking Robert's hand in his free one. "I'm not a royal officer anymore, let alone the Head of Intelligence."

Lafayette smiled, squeezing Tallmadge's hand. "You are a true gentleman, Monsieur André."

"I do try." John inclined his head slightly. Then he looked at Tallmadge. "I am sorry about your friend, Brewster. I did not expect Arnold to allow Simcoe to 'interview' him."

Tallmadge glanced at Hercules and Robert before replying, "It took him some time, but he's back to his usual self now."

"I'm glad to hear that." John nodded, smiling. Then he raised his eyebrows. "He was part of your organization, wasn't he? That's why you wanted him back badly enough to kidnap a magistrate and his son."

Robert quickly covered his mouth with his free hand to hide his amusement at Tallmadge, Lafayette, and Alexander's surprised reaction to John's question. Clearing his throat, Tallmadge reluctantly nodded, "Um, yes, he was. What gave it away?"

"You _did_ kidnap a magistrate and his son," John reminded them. "You didn't go to such extremes for Hercules, but then he had Robert to speak for him."

Nodding, Tallmadge gave Alexander a look that Robert didn't quite understand. Alexander sighed and nodded. "Yes, you were right at the time, Ben. I already apologized for getting mad at you before."

"You were angry over my arrest?" Hercules asked Alexander, amused. "I'm flattered."

Sighing again, Alexander nudged Hercules. "You were kind to me when I first came to America. Of _course_ I was worried when Arnold arrested you."

"Perhaps we should go upstairs and have some tea?" Hercules suggested, his eyes suspiciously bright, and cleared his throat the next moment.

They agreed and the others followed Hercules upstairs. John gently caught Robert's arm and waited until the others had disappeared to ask quietly, "Your family knew about you and Hercules, didn't they?"

"Yes." Robert didn't hesitate to confirm it. He'd expected John to figure it out eventually.

John nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You're so close to them, especially your mother, that I couldn't help wondering."

"Come on you lovebirds," Alexander called from the bottom of the stairs, smirking. "Don't let the tea get cold."

Giving a soft huff of laughter, Robert clasped John's hand in his and followed Alexander up the stairs. _It's all gone better than I expected._

*

As the date of the wedding drew closer, John and his family relocated to Oyster Bay. Samuel, on one of his walks through the village, came across Antoine, also walking through the village. "Hello, Signore Townsend. Do you often walk through the village?"

"I do, yes." Samuel nodded, smiling up at Antoine from where he rested on a bench outside the tavern. "What do you think of our little village?"

Sitting down, Antoine leaned back with a soft sigh. "It is very peaceful here. I like it, but I miss the busyness of London or even York City."

"I grew up traveling between here and York City," Samuel told him, stretching a little to ease the stiffness in his legs. "I've always liked both."

Antoine nodded, shifting his weight a little. "Is that why you decided to start your trading business in addition to farming?"

"I suppose." Samuel smiled a little. "I also grew tired of seeing my fellow New Yorkers pay more than goods were worth simply because no one else was importing them. I had connections, so I used them to import goods and sold them for much fairer prices."

Nodding again, Antoine shifted on the bench to better look at Samuel. "And now Robert is attempting to renew those connections."

"Attempting?" Samuel frowned, shifting to look at Antoine. "It hasn't gone well? Robert seems to think it went well."

Antoine shook his head this time. "He made some progress, but it will take a concerted effort on his part."

Samuel studied him for several moments. "You managed to keep something from him. I'm impressed. He and Sarah can usually tell if someone is keeping a secret from them."

"He has been rather distracted by John." Antoine gave Samuel a sly look that startled him into laughing. "The progress Robert has made was thanks to my influence."

Nodding, Samuel leaned forward and rested his chin on the head of his cane, thinking about what Antoine had said. _He's getting at something._ Turning back to Antoine, Samuel said, "You have something in mind."

"I do." Antoine nodded, looking pleased that Samuel had asked. "I propose that we merge our companies and ask our sons to act as our agents. This voyage to America has proven to me that I have grown too old to spend my life traveling."

Samuel chuckled ruefully. "I know that feeling too well." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "You _do_ know that I only have four trading ships, yes? You could easily just buy them and make them part of your fleet that way."

"Our sons will be married soon, so we're almost family as it is," Antoine explained, calmly and seriously. "I want to _help_ your business, not take it over."

He gazed at Antoine with some surprise. In Samuel's experience, merchants as successful as Antoine didn't generally let sentiment get in the way of good business. "That's very generous of you, Mr. André. You've obviously put a great deal of thought into the matter."

"I have." Antoine nodded, looking hopeful. "Are you willing to hear more?"

Smiling, Samuel stood up and gestured with his cane. "Why don't we walk as we talk about it?"

"That's an excellent idea." Chuckling, Antoine stood up and they set off together.

*

"Yves?" Ben asked as they walked through the woods near Setauket. "How soon do you need to return to France?"

They walked in silence for several moments before Yves replied, "I don't have a set day that I need to return, but I can't put it off for too much longer."

"If you can wait another month or so, I can go with you," Ben told him quietly, and then bit his lip, nervous about Yves' reaction to his suggestion.

Yves stopped short and slowly turned to face Ben, who'd stopped at the same time. He lifted one hand to cup Ben's cheek. "You are certain, mon cœur? You don't wish to stay in America for a few more years?"

"Quite certain, mon amour," Ben assured him, covering Yves' hand with his and turning his head to brush a kiss across the palm. "The Army is disbanded and I have nothing else to keep me here right now. It's the best time for me to leave."

Smiling, Yves drew Ben close and kissed him, sweet and tender. He had tears in his eyes when he drew back. "Of course I'll wait until you can go with me. If you'll remember, I wanted you to go with me last time."

"I know, and if I hadn't needed to stay, I would have gladly gone with you then," Ben smiled, gently cupping Yves' cheek. "I don't want to be parted from you again."

Kissing Ben's palm, Yves reminded him, "It may still happen in the future."

"Hopefully, there won't be an ocean between us then." Smiling, Ben stretched up to kiss Yves again. "I've already begun arranging my affairs here so I can go to France. It shouldn't take me too much longer."

Holding Ben close, Yves kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going without you, so take the time to do it properly."

"I will." Ben sighed deeply and happily. He was nervous about meeting Adrienne and the children, but that was still some months ahead. For now, he would focus on his time with Yves.

*

"John, Robert, can we talk with you for a bit?" Samuel asked about a week later when he and Antoine found their sons in the sitting room at the Townsend family home, playing chess. They sat down on a nearby settee while John straightened up from his contemplation of the board. He frowned slightly as he looked between the two. "What is it Uncle Samuel, Padre? Has something come up?"

"Nothing bad, mio figlio," Antoine assured John, leaning forward to clap a hand on his shoulder and keep him from standing up. "We have a business proposition for the two of you."

Robert finally looked up from the board at that, curiosity in his eyes as he looked between their fathers. "What sort of business proposition?"

"We have decided to unite our companies," Samuel told them, his eyes flicking between John and Robert.

Antoine continued the explanation, "We are not young men anymore and would like you two to act as our agents abroad."

"I wondered when you would tell me the truth, Zio Antoine," Robert remarked while John was still absorbing the import of their fathers' request.

Samuel chuckled, pleased, while Antoine looked surprised. "I should've known you would figure out the truth yourself."

"I beg your pardon?" John was just a tad confused. He looked at his fiancé. "I thought your efforts in England had gone well, Robert?"

Robert nodded with a small, reassuring smile. "They did, John, just not as well as I'd intimated."

"In order to make any progress at all, I introduced Robert to some of _my_ contacts," Antoine explained, his expression apologetic.

John nodded as he figured out why his father had come to suggest a merger with Samuel's trading firm. "You want to help Uncle Samuel, but not take over his company completely, right, Padre?"

"Sì, mio figlio." Antoine nodded, looking pleased and proud.

Looking thoughtful, Robert asked, "Exactly how much are you merging your companies?"

"They'll be united under the same name, and therefore take advantage of Antoine's contacts," Samuel told them, holding up what looked like a contract. He continued as Robert took the contract and began to read it. "However, you and I will have the final say on what our ships will carry and where they will go. All profits from those ships will go to either of us."

Nodding, Antoine looked at John. "The same will be true for our ships, John. We will have the final say on where our ships go and what goods they will carry. All of the profits from our ships will go to us. If Samuel or Robert buy more ships, they will have the final say on those ships as well as receive the profits from them."

"And the same goes for any ships Antoine or John will purchase," Samuel added with a nod. "As you said, John: Antoine wants to help, but not absorb our company entirely."

John leaned back in his chair, studying his father for a moment, and then looking at Robert. He still had his head bent over the contract, hazel eyes intent on the words. "That's all very well and good, but it sounds to me like Uncle Samuel and Robert benefit more from this merger than we do, Padre."

"They will be family, mio figlio," Antoine told him, punctuating his words with his cane. "You know that I do what I can to help your siblings' dream-mates and spouses. Now I am doing the same for _your_ dream-mate."

Finally, Robert looked up from the contract and nodded, his eyes suspiciously bright. "Grazie, Zio Antoine. I had expected you would offer to continue helping, but I had not expected _this_ sort of help."

"Do you accept?" Antoine asked, reaching out to take Robert's hand as John took the contract to skim through it himself.

Even as he focused on parsing the language of the contract, John listened as Robert said, "As long as John agrees to be your agent, I will continue as Father's agent."

"John's brother, William, has been acting as my agent for the past several years," Antoine explained, not yet releasing Robert's hand. "However, he has confided that he wishes to give it up so he can stay in London with his family."

Finished reading, John lowered the contract and covered his father and Robert's hands with his. "I would be glad to take over the position, Padre."

"Thank you, John." Samuel stood up and moved over to place his hand on top of John's. "Consider this our wedding gift to both of you."

A single tear trickling down his cheek, Robert reached up and took Samuel's free hand in his. "Thank you, Father, Zio Antoine, for this opportunity."

"Thank you," John added in a whisper, clasping Antoine's free hand with his. He had actually been considering offering to take over as his father's agent, but hadn't been sure if his brother would agree to the idea. _Now I know. I'm glad._

*

Robert couldn't take his eyes off the ring on his finger. For years, he'd been ambivalent about marriage. Even though all of his sisters married their dream-mates, he hadn't expected to do the same. First he'd thought John's parents would want him to marry an eligible young lady of society. Then he'd thought he wouldn't get to marry John because he'd get himself killed. Then he'd worried John wouldn't want to marry him after he'd admitted to passing information to Washington during the war. And yet, here he was, a ring on his finger and a promise to love him for the rest of his days. He closed his eyes with a sigh when John slid his arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. "You're thinking too much again, Robert."

"Perhaps you should do something about that," Robert murmured, looking at John over his shoulder with a small smile.

John smiled and leaned forward to kiss Robert, sweet and soft, but with desire lurking just under the surface. "I can't remember a time when I didn't love you in some way."

"I asked my mother once why I had a dream-mate," Robert told him, turning in John's arms to face him. "She was perfectly happy without one and I was so much like her that it seemed strange to me that I did."

Raising his eyebrows, John nudged his forehead against Robert's. "What did she say?"

"That God decided I need 'mate," Robert smiled, kissing John's cheek. "I've come to my own conclusion, though."

Kissing Robert's cheek in return, John asked, "And what conclusion is that?"

"I wouldn't have dared to pursue a relationship with you if we hadn't been dream-mates," Robert admitted quietly, meeting John's eyes calmly and steadily. "Even if a relationship _had_ come about, I don't know that I'd have had felt as comfortable in it so quickly."

Smiling warmly, John drew him into a tender kiss. "I think I'd have been drawn to you even if we hadn't been 'mates. I'd have wanted to get to know you and, hopefully, pursue a relationship."

"It wouldn't have been easy." Robert reminded him, very aware that John was guiding them towards the bed. "You've seen for yourself how quiet and self-contained I can be."

Sitting down on the bed, John drew Robert close to stand between his knees. "I know, and I'd have still wanted to get to know you. I love you _just_ the way you are, Robert Townsend. I wouldn't change a single thing about you."

"I love you, too, John André, and I'm glad for your patience." Smiling, Robert leaned down to kiss John. He'd always found it easier to show how he felt than say it. Luckily, John always understood him regardless of the language he spoke.

*

"Be sure to write a lot of letters, Tallboy," Caleb told Benjamin sternly as they stood on the docks in Boston. "Maybe I'll read one or two."

Laughing, Ben hugged his best friend. "You're such an arsehole."

"Only to my friends." Caleb grinned as he hugged Ben back. As he did, he whispered in Ben's ear, "I hope you're happy with him, Ben."

Smiling, he whispered back, "As happy as you are with your 'mates."

"That's all I could ask for." Clearing his throat, Caleb stepped back so the next person could hug Ben.

Abe stepped forward and hugged Ben tight. "I knew you wouldn't be happy staying in Setauket. Not with Gilbert in France."

"You know me too well." Ben grinned as he hugged Abe back. "I'm glad you worked things out with Mary, Anna, and Selah. I hope you're all happy and have lots of healthy children."

Nodding, Abe took a few moments to reply. "I hope that things work out for you, Gilbert, and his wife, too."

"That makes three of us." Ben smiled weakly as Abe stepped back.

Anna hugged Ben next, made more awkward by her pregnancy. "Remember, you're not in the Army anymore, Ben. Take time for yourself."

"I'll do my best, Anna." He rested his hand on her stomach. "I hope your baby is healthy."

She smiled and leaned forward to whisper, "If it's a boy, we're going to name it Benjamin."

"What?" He stared at her in shock, and then at Abe, who nodded, grinning.

Smiling, he leaned in to kiss each of her cheeks. "Take care of yourself and your family, Anna."

"I will, Ben. You do the same." She kissed his cheeks in return.

They finished saying their good-byes and walked up the gangplank onto the ship. They stood at the railing and waved at their friends until they couldn't see them anymore. Yves wrapped an arm around Ben's shoulders and he leaned into his 'mate. "This is a much better start to this voyage than the last one I made to France."

"D'accord." Ben smiled and turned, stretching up to kiss Yves. "Je t'aime, mon amour."

Smiling, Yves kissed him back. "Je t'aime aussi, mon cœur."

*

"Will you two be happy, stayin' in York City?" Hercules asked as the servants loaded Samuel and Sarah's luggage on the cart. Now that Robert and John had left for their honeymoon and John's parents had sailed for England, Samuel and Sarah had decided to move to York City permanently.

Smiling, Samuel drew Hercules into a tight hug. Softly, he whispered, "I'll be with _you_ , love. Of course I'll be happy."

"We stayed here at the farm because it was best for the children," Sarah added, joining them after a few moments. "Now they're grown and even Robert has left. It's time for someone younger to take it over."

Hercules closed his eyes, but a couple tears escaped down his cheeks. "You know I will be glad to have you with me."

"I don't know how many years I have left," Samuel told them, tightening his arms around Hercules when he moved to protest, "but I want to spend them with both of you."

When Hercules opened his eyes, tears glittered in his eyelashes and a shaky smile curved his lips. "I want to spend all the time I can with you, Samuel. I love you."

"I love you, too, Hercules." Samuel felt Sarah move back so he could kiss Hercules, which he did, sweet and tender. He turned to Sarah and cupped her cheek with his hand. "You know I love you, too, Sarah."

She smiled and covered his hand with hers. "I know, Samuel. I accepted long ago that I would have to share you and I have never regretted it." She smiled at Hercules. "I couldn't imagine a better man to be your 'mate."

"I confess, part of me wished that _you_ were my dream-mate," Samuel told her quietly. "Then Hercules was born and I understood."

Hercules wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders, grinning despite the tear tracks on his cheeks. "Honestly, if God had decided to give us another dream-mate, he couldn't have done better than Sarah here."

"You're too kind, Hercules," Sarah answered dryly, but Samuel took note of the fact that she wrapped her arm around Hercules' waist all the same.

They stood together in silence for several minutes before Tzipporah interrupted them. "Excuse me, Mr. Townsend, Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Mulligan. They've finished loading the cart."

"Thank you, Tzipporah." Samuel smiled warmly at their housekeeper. "Are you sure you wish to stay here?"

She nodded, smiling. "I do, sir. My family is here in the village."

"Thank you for your years of service." He extended his hand to her. She stared at it for several moments before placing hers in it. Samuel shook her hand warmly. "If you change your mind, you just let us know."

"I will, sir." Tzipporah nodded again.

Releasing her hand, Samuel turned and walked to the waiting carriage. Hercules insisted on helping him inside, and then Sarah, before climbing inside as well. Once they were all settled, Samuel rapped on the roof with his cane and the carriage set off for York City.

*

((Note: this scene is translated from French))

When Yves and Ben finally arrived at Chateau Chavaniac, a servant opened the carriage door for them. As Yves climbed out, young voices called, "Father! Father is home!"

"Yes, I am home," Yves replied as the servants helped Benjamin climb down from the carriage. "It's wonderful to see you again, my little ones."

The little boy Yves now held in his arms stared hard at Benjamin before looking back at Yves. "Who is he, Father?"

"This is my dream-mate, Georges," Yves informed him, extending his hand to Benjamin, who took it gladly. "Where is your mother and Aunt Lottie?"

The little girl walked alongside them towards the chateau. "Inside, of course. They have Virginie with them."

"Excellent." They stepped inside to find two elegant ladies waiting for them, one of whom held another little girl in her arms, younger than the boy. "Adrienne."

The woman holding the girl smiled and carefully set her on her feet. The other woman took firm hold of her hand. "Welcome home, Yves."

"It's good to be home," he replied, releasing Ben's hand so he could set down his son and greet Adrienne with a kiss on each cheek, and then her lips. Then he turned and held out his hand to Ben once again. He took it, smiling nervously. "Adrienne, this is my dream-mate, Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge. Benjamin, this is my wife, Marie Adrienne Françoise."

Adrienne smiled graciously at Ben, offering her hand to him. "It is a pleasure to meet you at long last, Colonel Tallmadge. Yves has missed you when he's here."

"No more than I've missed him, Madame Lafayette," Ben replied, taking her hand to bow and kiss it.

Laughing softly, she told him, "Please, you are my husband's 'mate. Call me Adrienne."

"Only if you call me Ben or Benjamin," he smiled, relaxing now that he could see for himself that Adrienne fully intended to share Yves with him.

Smiling, she told him, "I will call you Benjamin, as Yves does."

"That is fine." He clasped his hands behind his back.

Adrienne turned and gestured for the other woman to join them. "Benjamin, this is my dream-mate, Charlotte Henriette Canet."

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Colonel Tallmadge." Charlotte smiled warmly as Adrienne deftly took the little girl's other hand. This allowed Charlotte to extend her hand to Ben.

He bowed and kissed her hand as well. "It's an honor, Mademoiselle Canet. Please, call me Benjamin or Ben as well."

"Only if you call me Charlotte or Lottie." Her smile turned playful as he stood up.

Ben nodded, relaxing even more. "Lottie it is, then."

"And I will call you Ben." She nodded back.

The older little girl tugged at Yves' frock coat. "Is he your 'mate like Aunt Lottie is Mother's?"

"Yes, little one, he is." Yves nodded, and then gently moved her to face Ben along with the boy and other little girl. "My heart, these are my children: Anastasie Louise Pauline du Motier, Georges Washington Louis Gilbert du Motier, and Marie Antoinette Virginie du Motier. Children, this is my dream-mate, Benjamin Tallmadge of America."

Ben bowed to the three children with a smile, his heart aching with the knowledge that there should be another girl, a year older than Anastasie, but she had barely lived to her second birthday. "I am honored to meet such beautiful children. I look forward to getting to know you."

"Do you love Father?" Anastasie asked frankly, meeting Ben's eyes curiously. "Like Aunt Lottie loves Mother?"

He nodded, carefully kneeling so he didn't tower over the children. "I do. I would be glad to spend the rest of my life here with your father."

"Can we call you Uncle Ben?" Georges asked the question this time, his head tilted curiously.

Tears stung Ben's eyes and it took him a moment to find his voice. "Yes, I would be honored to be your uncle."

"Uncle Ben!" With that, Virginie threw her arms around Ben and hugged him tight.

Smiling, he hugged her back. The next moment, both Anastasie and Georges joined the hug, knocking Ben off balance and making them all laugh. "Come along, little ones. Don't suffocate him when he's barely arrived."

"My hero," Ben told Yves once the children had backed away and Yves helped him to his feet.

Smiling, Yves kissed him softly. "Let's go to the sitting room for refreshments. I'm sure you're quite hungry."

"Indeed, I am." Slipping his arm through Yves', Ben walked with him to the sitting room. A moment later, he was startled when Anastasie slipped her hand into his. A lump formed in his throat. He hadn't expected Yves' family to take to him so quickly, but he was very glad for it all the same.

*

"You're up early, Hercules," Sarah remarked quietly when she found him in the parlor, drinking tea as he read a book.

He remained quiet for several moments before he quietly admitted, "It's very strange to be alone in my dreams. I don't know how you've stood it all these years."

"I've never known any different." Sarah sat down beside him, gently taking his teacup from him before he dropped it. "Sometimes, I've wondered what it must be like."

Making a wounded sound, Hercules covered his face with shaking hands. "All my life, he's always been _there_. Now-- now he's _gone_."

"Samuel may be gone, but I am here for you." Sarah hugged Hercules, her voice gentle.

Making that sound again, Hercules hugged Sarah back. "Thank you, Sarah. Sometimes, I wished you were our 'mate, too."

"I am honored and flattered, Hercules." Tears trickled down her cheeks. "I married Samuel because I felt, if I'd had a 'mate, it would have been him. I long ago concluded that both of you would have suited me as 'mates."

Hercules managed a soft, shaky laugh. "I may not love you the way I loved Samuel, but I do care for you, Sarah."

"I have loved you both for a long time, Hercules."

They sat and held each other as they mourned the loss of a man who had room in his heart for a wife and a dream-mate and a large, extended family.

*

"I know you've never known what it was like to be alone in your dreams, Robert," Hercules told him, ten years later. "I pray you never do."

Robert held his uncle's hand tight in both of his. For once, he didn't hold back his tears. He let them spill down his cheeks as he mourned for the woman who'd known him best. Only one person knew him better. "If you want me to stay, Uncle, I will."

"Please?" Hercules asked quietly. "Your mother helped me after your father died. Now--"

His voice failed Robert. The lump in his throat was too large for him to speak around. John saved him, though, covering their hands with his. "You have us, Uncle Hercules. For as long as you need us."

"Thank you, John." Hercules managed a tiny, tearful smile. "I'm glad Robbie has you in his life."

Though he gave a soft huff of annoyance at the nickname, Robert didn't correct Hercules. Nor did he resist when Hercules pulled both him and John into a hug later. _He needs this comfort. I can't deny him that._

*

"Do you mind if we stay in America?" Robert asked John, the night after the funeral for Hercules twenty-five years later. "For a year or two at least?"

Holding Robert close, John shook his head. "Not at all. My parents have all passed. If it will comfort you to stay here, then that's what we'll do."

"Thank you." Robert rolled over to hug John close. "I love you."

John hugged him back, kissing his forehead. "I love you, too."

Thirteen years later, after a long and happy life together, they died within days of each other.

*

Ben stayed by Yves' side as much as he could for the rest of their lives. He supported Yves as he attempted to bring democracy to France. When events turned against Yves and he decided to flee to America, Ben travelled with him. He was captured with Yves, but not sent to prison with the rest of the family. Reluctantly, he continued on to America and worked from there to agitate for Yves' release from prison. When it finally came about, Ben joined them once again. He was never parted from Yves again. After Yves' death, Ben returned to America and spent his last year of life in Setauket. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious about anything I left out, feel free to ask in the comments. I had plenty of other ideas that didn't make it into the final story for one reason or another. I may compile those into a separate chapter and post that. You never know.


End file.
